


Irregularity

by The_lovely_noodles



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anxiety, Bipolar Disorder, Bipolar! Lance, Depressed Lance, Depression, Female pronouns for Pidge, Hurt Lance (Voltron), Hurt! Lance, Hurt/Comfort, I nearly cried writing this, Latino Lance (Voltron), Long drawn out metaphors, Mental Illness, Mom! Blue Lion, Multi, Non canon compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Changes, Panic Attacks, Purple Prose, Shiro is really trying, Space Dad Shiro, TW: Blood, TW: Suicide, blood in later chapters, blue lion - Freeform, hispanic lance, klance if u squint - Freeform, lance centric, not shance, poor shiro, suicide ideation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-16
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2018-10-06 10:05:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10332182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_lovely_noodles/pseuds/The_lovely_noodles
Summary: Lance lives in a perpetual state of unhealthy introspection as well as being diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder and anxiety.  Space doesn’t have bipolar medication so sometimes mania comes up in worst of ways, depression on the worst of days. Handling it becomes his highest mountain. Shiro’s just trying to be a good leader in the meanwhile.





	1. Symptomatology

**Author's Note:**

> I went ahead and poured myself into this Lance so sorry if it's ooc because I drew a lot of Lance's experiences in this fic from my own. 
> 
> I relate to Lance in that I constantly posture and have a crippling number of insecurities.
> 
> Also lmao fourth fic on this here website?? I dunno how to Author's note bcause last time i did so I was on Fanfiction dot net. //Sweats

 

Lance’s ears are ringing with the keening alarm of from the castleship. He clings onto the zipline, cerulean flying past him, heart pounding and blood singing with exhilaration and he falls into Blue, her Holographic dashboard humming and lighting up. He feels like he can fly at a million miles a second, legs and arms vibrating with strange untapped excitement. He inhales deeply, skin thrumming and Blue’s low voiced growl resonates in his head- go, be great Paladin and Lance seconds that.

He launches forward, soaring into the inky void before him, a thousand worlds twinkling. He laughs as he dodges beams of bright purple and deep red- he cannot hear the faraway voices of his team mates who are screaming but he can feel them, distressed and he can feel their pain and he jettisons into a Galra war ship, jaw blade slicing through the Alien Steel hull.

“Lance!” A voice guts through his ears and its Pidge, chattering at him angrily but Lance cannot hear her, he can only feel the thrilling gush of triumph in his chest even as the Blue Lion takes explosion damage. A hull piece strikes the rump of his Blue Lion and it shakes Lance out of his high as she roars in pain, his mind shaking.

 

“Shit!” He shouts aloud, “Shit! Blue are you good?”

They’re spinning and Blue says yes and Lance rears them upright, launching back toward the small fleet of Galra losing his sense of up and down in space.

_Connect to the_ _others-_

Lance’s racing mind supplies, _connect to them_ and suddenly he feels as if he is going too fast, a billion and one questions shooting across his mind.   _Do they need to form Voltron? When? Connect!_  

A headache begins to form as the barrage of thought refuses to stop and Lance leans forward on impulse, migraine growing and slams his head on the dashboard of the Blue Lion- hard.  
It soothes his headache for a second but a voice cuts through his spinning head.

“Jesus Lance!” It’s Hunk and he sounds worried, “Lance- I heard a really loud noise, are you good?”

“Yeah I’m good.” Lance says, and his headache grows and grows and he doesn’t try to hit his head on the dashboard again to get rid of it.

“We’re retreating.” Hunk tells him and Lance exhales, his muscles unraveling and then winding tight- tension so heavy on his eyes he feels as if he’s dying.

“Okay.” Lance says wearily and he forgets the fight as he enters the castle of Lions, becoming like stone, muscles tense. That was a bad fight and he knew it. If Lance felt untouchable during a fight, it is generally a failure. Lance leaves his lion, touching her paw.

“I’m sorry Blue.” He murmurs, “It’d be better if I had my meds.”

Blue tilts her head minutely, confused and Lance quirks a small smile feeling more tired and heavier than ever.

“I get it, it’s weird. It makes me stable, my meds. It makes me better at everything. I can still be handsome I guess, or smart or better than Keith- but better.” Lance feels a lump in his throat, fear at facing his fellow Paladins and he kneels at Blue’s paw, sighing.

“I- I fucked up.” Lance says quietly, “I- I couldn’t- my brain- I just.”

He lays his head against her giant metal paw, trying to breathe deeply and not cry, his blood singing with stress his eyes aching with un-shed tears. Her non response spikes his panic and he sheds his paladin plate armor, tears squeezing at the corner of his eyes.

He imagines his teammates response, disapproval, anger- he imagines Shiro and his sharp glare not hearing orders. He imagines Pidge rambling angrily at him, he imagines Keith his normally endearing comments becoming acrid and then Hunk, worried and disappointed quiet and passive. Lance curses himself as the idea starts to rise like a tide and bubble in his stomach.

Anger seeps through his brain and his skin and he shrieks to the ceiling at the thoughts, tears running down his cheeks, anger flowing through him like a poisonous river, anger at his own lack of talent and cooperation- anger. Lance inhales deeply again, but his blood boils, uncontrollable his thoughts self deprecating. He wishes to destroy something, tear his skin off- destroy anything, himself, anything.

Lance picks up his bayard, wearing nothing but his underclothes from his Paladin armor and he storms out of the hangar of the Blue Lion towards the Sparring room, energy stirring under his skin.

Lance opens a training sessions, not caring what level he got and what he wants a weapon to bash with, a club, a sword- anything but the stupid rifle.

The first simulated assailant shows up and Lance launches into action, fury- rage bubbling under his skin. He strikes it with the butt of his rifle, roaring and he strikes it again, again and again with what anymore? He doesn’t care. There are two assailants now and one hits him over and over even as he plunges his bayard into the opponent Lance turns, seizes its head, wrenching it off- feeling powerful and chucks it across the room even as it de-materializes, screaming loud and clear, crying and crying.

He continues, beams of light slashing through his underclothes and burning his skin, but Lance doesn’t stop, realizing his bayard did turn into a bashing object- a mace half the size of his arm.

_Take your pills Lance._

_What Pills?_ Lance wants to ask- _back on Earth? No Pills here._

The simulation is over and he’s panting, mace clenched in hand skin stinging with light burns. Lance groans, tears filling his eyes again- a scream wanting to burst from his throat. He fucked up, that’s a bad fight- he didn’t listen to any of them, what would Shiro think?

He waits for another wave of fighter drones, mind buzzing and throat and chest stuffed, he turns and sees a flash of black- A fighter drone? His shame bubbles over again and he sprints towards the figure, blinded by tears. He lets out a harsh broken sound and swings his mace upon the figure who is taller and more solidly built than that of a fighter drone. His mace clangs with metal and it rebounds, flinging out of his hand and reforming into his bayard sliding away on the sparring floor.

Lance swings his fist any which way, screaming, wanting to reach into the delicate mechanics of this drone and tear, tear, tear them out. He hears a muffled far away voice- his throat is raw, his eyes are swollen and he cries fresh new tears. When he tries to swing again a hand grabs his wrist, rough and warm holding him firm- snapping him back from his bubbling rage. Lance lets out a cry, falling limp in front of the imposing figure and covering his head with his hands.

He attacked a teammate, Lance can see it plain and simple- who he doesn’t know nor cares.

“F-fuck.” Lance curses under his breath, “I- fuck.” He stands, turning away, pacing- hands vibrating, why can’t he get anything right?

He turns and picks up his bayard which doesn’t form into a mace and pitches it at the wall as hard as he can.

Lance is breathing heavily, listening to the figure approach him. He wants to tear his hair out and just stand silently at the same time. He also wants the figure to kick him- to hurt him silently and unapologetically.

It’s Shiro, A small voice supplies in a sneering unhelpful manner.

Oh great- Lance thinks, it’s always Shiro huh? The one he’s gotta disappoint the most?

He takes a deep breath, emptied of his anger like a storm drain, replaced with a sullen misty fog. He turns to Shiro, exhausted, unsmiling.

“Sorry for that- for everything. Can you stab me through the chest with your hand really quick?”

Lance says it so easily to his Hero in a lackluster way badly disguised as a gallows humor joke, but he yearns the literal action of his own phrase where Shiro respects his wish and spears him through the chest with his only weapon.

Shiro’s response is startled and stricken, almost terrified, as if he’s told to kill someone.

“Lance- Lance are you okay?” Shiro is concerned and it is a drop of warm honey on Lance’s tongue, blissfully sweet and yet prone to bitterness. It has such an obvious answer but in the end it’s because Shiro has a strong leadership disposition and an obligation to ask with no knowledge about Lance’s situation unless Lance tells, and he knows it’s not a good idea to tell

“Are you okay?” Shiro asks again and Lance can’t look into his eyes and see his terror.

“What does it look like?” Lance snarks non maliciously, “I attacked you- I’m obviously not okay.”

Shiro shifts uncomfortably at Lance’s comment and he scratches the back of his neck- a weird vulnerable gesture from the leader of voltron.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Lance huffs, Shiro sounds worse than his mother.

Not worse, because his _mami,_ the overbearing woman she was would yank his jumbled emotions and thoughts out of him like a bad mechanic and if Lance said no to Shiro he’d drop it and maybe still be open when he’s ready.

Lance can’t respond to Shiro, he can’t touch Shiro, he can’t do anything- he backs away, lump in his throat, shame in his stomach and he sits at the back of the sparring room silent tears running down his face.

“Lance!” Shiro calls into the room and Lance curls in on himself, burying his face into his knees.

“Lance- talk to me, we can fix this, I can help- I can-” Shiro’s voice is swelling with frustration, every phrase that flows out of his voice isn’t proving calm and soothing to him. Shiro knows he sounds patronizing but the fence has no openings.

Lance doesn’t want to hear Shiro yell, but he doesn’t want to look at Shiro and see his disappointment.

“Lance I’m not mad.” Shiro says suddenly and Lance looks up through his tears in the powering down lights of the sparring room, shock jolting through his nerves like an electrified fence.

He can’t answer, his throat is full of snot but he breathes raggedly, heart pounding relentlessly..

“I’m not mad at you, the others aren’t mad either- I promise.” Lance hears his father’s voice through Shiro, it would be better that he’d be mad and not disappointed. He doesn’t answer, his _papi’s_ gruff voice ringing a bell in his brain:

“I’m not angry hijo I’m just disappointed.”

_“Please!”_ Shiro shouts desperation threading through his voice, “Just talk to me! _Lance say something!_ ”

Lance hears the sneering voice again, a tiny angry thought-

_Quit making him suffer you selfish child._

Lance stands, heart heavy, the thought phrase perfect. His job is to not make Shiro suffer more than he already is suffering. He can’t have this problem, the no-meds problem in the middle of a war, Shiro is practically a War general, a War veteran and ridden with his own more debilitating problems. He can’t be concerned with snivelling children.

Lance sweeps past Shiro- or at least tries to because Shiro stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Doesn’t Princess Allura want us at dinner?” Lance asks tiredly, “She’d be really concerned if you were absent.”

“What about you?” Shiro asks.

“Me too,” Lance amends dismissively, and he gives a small smile to Shiro who doesn’t look very convinced.

“Y’know.” He doesn’t elbow Shiro but he intones his voice in that joking tone Shiro is familiar with, “Dinner.”

It feels fake and out of place and Lance sidles along the hallway in a goofy manner, despite his swollen eyes, red face and shaking hands and turns around the corner from Shiro’s concerned gaze.

Lance enters his room, dresses into a sleeping robe and slips into bed, staring at the ceiling, hoping to doze off into sleep.

Yet his insides burn with nervous energy, he rolls onto his side, his stomach and when he rolls back onto his spine he stares at the ceiling with insomnia swarming his eyes.  
Lance shrieked his soul out today, cried to the ends of the Universe, why isn’t he exhausted?

Right… he’s still thinking about Shiro and the face he’ll see next time he will wake up.


	2. Stabilization

_ In the sparring room, Lance heard little ripples of concern, a facial expression of terror and an unconvinced voice that spoke: “I’m not mad.” Lance doesn’t know whether or not Shiro can lie, but he probably can out of ‘Good Intentions’.  Lance closes his eyes- when the whole bad battle thing blows over tomorrow he’ll face Allura.  _

 

Lance wakes up with a start, every bone aching with stress and every muscle spiraling into a coil of tension. If a mission throws a wrench into his plan that involves talking to Allura that is fine, but missions won’t keep him from trying.  

 

His  mornings are numb and forgetful and he dresses like a drone getting ready for work. Lance wanders onto the Brig of the Castle ship, mumbling good morning and receiving no response.  

 

“Oh, right.” He murmurs with a weak smile, “Because there aren’t mornings in space.”  

 

Shiro, who is standing next to Pidge and watching her program at her station looks up and chuckles a little, glancing at the stars and when he tries to lock eyes with Lance- he’s already at his station, guilt rising in him like an ancient death god.  Allura looks busy, scanning her map for distress signals, her eyes closed.  Lance doesn’t want to miss her but he doesn’t want to bother her so he runs his fingers through menus on his brig dashboard, unable to read Altean, trying to be patient. Lance thinks about saving his question for when he has alone time with Allura and booking it for the kitchen to sneak food from Hunk.  lance can depend on Hunk to forget when he royally fucks up, even when Hunk doesn’t forget. 

 

When he looks up from his brig dashboard Allura is closing her star maps and Lance stands to approach her.  She glances at him warily and Lance feels a stab of guilt and pain through his chest.  

 

“Um- Princess!” He  barks, hating himself and seizing up, spine clicking into place.   

 

“Yes Lance?” Allura is a beautiful woman, a beautiful person and he feels like crying when he sees her unnerving sapphire eyes gazing at him with apprehension.  

 

“Uh, I have a question for you.”  Lance can’t talk to her, he feels dumb and Pidge and Shiro look up from their quiet work also gazing at Lance.  

 

“Um-” Lance feels on edge and his heart starts to pound, “I wanna say it only to you Princess, if that’s okay.” 

 

Allura raises an eyebrow at the response and Shiro gets up and quietly leads Pidge out of the homebrig.  Now they are alone.  

 

“Did Alteans have mental illness?” Lance asks and Allura’s eyes widen in surprise and Lance regrets everything he just said.  

 

“What do you mean by Mental Illness?” 

 

_ Oh.  _ Lance wants to end it there and leave for the Kitchen where Hunk may probably be stress cooking, but he takes a deep breath and presses on despite his chest whirling with panic his mind racing.  

 

“Um.” Lance says, “When the brain is so messed up that someone can’t function?” 

 

It’s a bad definition, but a definition no less and Allura seems pensive.  

 

“Alteans didn’t have what you called Mental Illness.” She says carefully, “But they did have Exhaustion from the use of quintessence in their bodies or other sources.” 

 

“What’s the cure usually?” Lance asks out of curiosity, because there’s gotta be a cure for something seemingly common.  

 

“Rest!” Allura says cheerfully, “A good Night’s rest or more can ease their mind after use of quintessence. Why do you ask?” 

 

“No reason.” Lance says and it’s true- because overuse of quintessence doesn’t fit the profile of what Lance has, “Thanks Princess.” 

 

He then leaves the Home brig, knowing that he has work to do.  

 

Back on Earth Lance took two medications to control his manic highs and chattering voice and valley deep lows and isolation.  They worked like a charm and kept Lance a greater part alive and stable.  Lance knew that he is no scientist, unable to come up with life saving food or tech or anything, but this medicine he wants to make  _ will  _ make him focused and goal driven again; and he’ll be a better paladin of Voltron that way.     

 

Lance honestly doesn’t know the basic components of his original meds, but the easier one to start with would be his anti-depressant which he heard encourages serotonin levels and keeps him from being tired and sleepy all of  the time.  

He needs to be practically elusive, invisible, which is easy for Lance amongst the members if he stays quiet enough because he’ll be practically useless.  Lance creeps around the infirmary, searching for quick healing fixes other than the healing pod, finding a spray for wounds and a sedation syringe.  

 

A sedation syringe- for what? The most severe surgeries during emergencies? He stows it away anyway, rummaging through the strange Altean cabinets and finding another syringe which he keeps as well.  

 

It would be ten times easier to simply grow and smoke weed to relax and shoot adrenaline to focus.  

 

So Lance skips meals to develop his outer space Altean BiPolar Medication and avoids the others so much he might as well be missing the bond that the Paladins have developed.  The only bond he tries to build the most is Blue, who brushes against Lance’s mind like a warm wave calming him whenever he feels like cannot go on.  

 

_ You are doing an excellent job my Paladin,  _ Blue purrs and Lance sits in his Lion, head on the dashboard, cooling his aching head.  

 

“I feel like I’m not doing enough.” Lance whines, closing his eyes, “I’m not even sure how to create an eating medium for it- I’m not even sure it’ll work!” 

 

His Blue Lion pushes another wave of calm upon him, a sensation so lovely that Lance wants to cry from the sheer emotion that is her love.  

 

_ Nonsense my Paladin,  _ Blue says again,  _ You are an honorable Paladin and an Honorable warrior- you are doing what is best for both you and your team.   _

 

Lance smiles and Blue gently stoppers his leaking well of tears.  

 

_ Best for me,  _ Lance thinks,  _ and my team.   _

 

So he pulls an allnighter, worse than the ones he pulled at the Garrison and continues fusing the sedation solution in the syringe with powdery compounds he found hidden in the cabinets of the Infirmary.  The results are crystals, obviously too dangerous to swallow and Lance considers how much time he has to sand the crystal down into a  digestible pill.  

 

Lance considers grinding the crystal back into a powder solution and drinking it with water, or making it more powdery but there’s the standard issued food goo which can be molded into edible pills around the sanded crystal.  Not as genius as Pidge, but doable.  

 

Keith is actually the first one to consider him missing and he comes into Lance’s makeshift laboratory, destroying all chances of elusiveness between him and the others.  Lance practically shoves his half baked crystals into a corner, standing straight up and pursing his lips into a thin line.  

 

“Allura wants you at dinner with the rest of the team.” Keith says, sort of cold but all too familiar and he glances over at the now empty work space, dark eyes scrutinizing and pensive.  

 

“What were you doing?” He asks, it’s a simple question but it sets off bells in Lance’s head- an obvious weeding question.  

 

“Nothing.” Lance says.

 

“Well whatever you were doing, quit goofing around and come down to dinner.”  Keith sounds frustrated but Lance doesn’t care because as Keith leaves, Lance calls down, 

 

“In a minute!” Like he does with his mother.  

 

He turns to his hastily hidden work space and sighs, the sudden weight of his work weighing down on him like a million bricks.  He has a chemical solution ready, now he needs to figure out a way to take it, or test it.  It felt as if Lance was running on a treadmill- moving but never progressing.   Lance exits the infirmary and goes down to dinner, exhausted already, nervous and ready to run away.  

 

The team sits as the table like the perfect idea of a  _ team,  _ bonding and talking and divulging secrets to each other like they’re sharing cookies.  

 

Allura sits at the head of the long table, Shiro next to her and Keith next to him- Lance notices how his seat is empty next to Keith and Pidge and everyone sits patiently, not eating.  Lance feels guilt sear through him so he rushes in, sitting next to Keith and a spear of fear sheathes through him when Keith asks, 

 

“Where have you been?” 

 

“Sorry.” Lance says absentmindedly, “Sorry I’ve been…” He looks up, everyone is giving him a confused stare and he struggles to put on a smile, “Sleeping.” 

 

Keith glares at him- spotting the lie in a second and Lance pulls up his chair.  

 

“What’s with the staring? What’s for dinner?” 

 

Pidge and Hunk turn back to their meals, Shiro squints at Lance in suspicion and Keith gives him this laser hot death stare that Lance cannot shake off.  He eats quickly, barely swallowing food goo and when he gets up he rushes back to the med lab, hoping to remember that he needs to sand down his compounds.  

 

Lance is halfway toward the Med lab when a hand yanks him back.  It’s Keith and he doesn’t look happy.  

 

“What was that?!” Keith barks in his face, “You don’t come to dinner for three days and you just leave?!” 

 

“I  finished my food!” Lance protests head whipping towards the hall and the med lab, “What’s the deal?”

 

“And you’re going to screw around in the infirmary?”

 

“No- no I had work-” 

 

“Work.”  Keith says sarcastically, “as if you actually work-” He presses his fingers into Lance’s wrist, hard, looking at him in a scrutinizing manner.  

 

“I’m sorry!” Lance bites out, panicked, “Keith I’m sorry!” 

 

His breathing becomes shallow and his heart pounds relentlessly and he does everything he can to not cry in front of Keith.  

 

Keith continues to stare for hot second before letting Lance go and turning away from him.  

 

“Don’t lie to the team like that again.” Keith says as he walks away and Lance skitters down the hall, back to the med lab- shaken.  

 

_ Paladin!  _ Blue cries, concerned,  _ Paladin are you alright?  _ _ I felt that you were in danger and-  _

Lance straightens up when he hears Blue’s regal voice in his head, speaking from afar.  

 

“I’m fine,” He says aloud, anxiety stirring underneath his skin.  

 

_ Obviously Not!  _ Blue practically roars and off in the distance, Lance can hear her despite how far away her hangar was.   _ You were attacked! Dignity Stripped! How dare-  _

 

“It’s fine Blue.” Lance reiterates heavily, “He doesn’t know, it’s a safe assumption that I was messing around.” 

 

_ You are an honorable Paladin,  _ Blue snorts,  _ Willing to give mind, body and soul to your team- how dare he thinks that you lie!  _

 

“But I did lie.” Lance says helplessly, “It’s a little white lie, but a lie nevertheless.  I’d get pissed too if I found one of my own lying to someone’s face- and badly.” 

 

_ Whatever falsities you give do not matter, as long as you give to your team.  You wear down your body and mind to prove you are capable and that tenacity in on itself is honorable,  _ Blue says, pride in her voice.  

 

Lance sighs as he goes back to his medicine, tediously sanding down the crystals from his fused compounds.  He ends up falling asleep on his work, one compound piece finished and sanded down.  

 

When Lance wakes again he goes straight to work, observing his crystal pill with sincere interest and disturbance.  It was a clear, oblong shape the size of the tip of his finger, designed to be used as a button- not swallowed.  

 

Yet Lance feels as if as if he ran out of time and he places the hard, clear oblong shape in his mouth, swallowing dry.  

 

Lance flinches and places his fingers on his throat- he feels as if he’s choking, but he swallows and swallows until he can’t feel it in his throat and relief spreads through him- a sensation of completion.  

 

“It’s done Blue.” He says aloud, even though his connection with her momentarily broke, “Now, I need a mood stabilizer.” 

 

He just wishes there’s galactic space weed or cocaine or something to close the gap.  

When he goes out again, he wishes the medicine would take effect sooner because when Hunk and Pidge look up from their work to look at him, he recoils as if he’s been physically struck.  

 

“Hey guys.” He says tiredly, nervously, “How’s everything?” 

 

His stomach rumbles with nausea but he pushes it down. 

 

“Fine…” Pidge trails off awkwardly and Lance can’t help but feel as if she doesn’t want to speak to him, as if Hunk doesn’t want to speak to him.  

 

_ Don’t disturb them,  _ The little sneering voice rings in his head,  _ They’re working.   _

 

Hunk and Pidge are at a program, staring at it and Lance feels lonelier than ever, wishing that the crystal marble in his stomach would make him more confident.  

 

Lance feels another wave of nausea, one so strong he feels as if he cannot push it down and he rushes out of the room without a second thought, doubling over and retching, vomiting.  

 

Lance’s heart thumps frantically, tears welling in his eyes as he empties his stomach’s contents as a realization dawns on him, the medicine doesn’t work.  

 

“Lance!” 

 

When Lance looks up, he sees Shiro down the hall and he rushes forward and helps him stand straight, grimacing at the sick on the floor.  

 

“God, are you alright?” 

 

“Yeah I’m fine.” lance says wearily and he glances at the sick and Shiro pushes him away from it, arm wrapped around his shoulder, “Just a little woozy.” and Shiro is the warmth and comfort that Lance wants- it’s quiet and unquestioning.  

 

“You must’ve eaten too fast.” Shiro says gently, “That’s what happens when you don’t eat for four days.” 

 

Lance feels chastened and he tries to look back at the hallway despite Shiro nudging him away.  

 

“Sorry Shiro.” Lance says, he feels more guilty about failing at developing the medication than throwing up in the hallway.  

“It’s not a problem Lance.”  Shiro says, “I understand it can get pretty stressful.” 

 

Yet Lance isn’t listening, his stomach is rumbling with nausea again and bile rises in his throat.  Lance tears away out of Shiro’s arms and towards the nearest bathroom where he once again throws up.  He groans, trying to breathe, hating himself for failing so hard- not wanting to face Blue, wanting to destroy anything within his reach.  

 

“Lance, I’ve got to get you to the infirmary.” Shiro is pulling him upward from the floor, Lance not protesting or making much comment, instead he feels a sickening guilt spread from the pit of his stomach toward his throat.  Lance retches again and Shiro holds him tight to keep from running.  

 

“Hey,  _ Hey.”  _ Shiro is threading his fingers through Lance’s hair, lightly brushing over his neck, “Breathe, at this point, I think it’s all nerves.” 

 

Lance inhales shakily, tears streaming down his cheeks and the two enter the infirmary.  

Shiro rummages through cabinets and he pulls out a container.  Lance inhales deeply, wondering whether Shiro would notice his med lab setup.  

 

Apparently Shiro doesn’t notice because he opens the container and there are little strips in it.  He takes a strip and hands it to Lance.  

 

“Helps with the upset stomach and the bad breath I discovered.” Shiro says, “Put it on your tongue and let it dissolve.” 

 

Lance takes it hesitantly and he quirks a small smile at Shiro who gives him a comforting smile back.  

 

Lance allows the strip to melt in his mouth and he tastes a sudden kick of mint and his nausea nearly vanishes.  

 

“Whoa-” Lance says surprised, and Shiro chuckles at his reaction.  

 

“Minty right?” He asks, “Do you feel better yet?” 

 

“Better.” Lance says, but something, despite his light disposition weighs him down and Shiro seems to notice.  

 

“If you need to talk, or spar or anything.” Shiro says, “You know you can come to me right?” 

Lance wishes it were true and he holds back a sigh and tears at the idea of it being so. 

 

“Right.” Lance says anyway and Shiro pats him on the cheek with his right hand before leaving Lance in the infirmary.  Lance glances at his work, his trays of raw crystals sitting on the top cabinet and he takes it down and places it on the cleared work space.  Lance rubs the back of his neck as he stares at it.  What an unmitigated failure, he thinks, he failed everyone, for real this time- his friends, Blue, Keith, Shiro, Allura- he allows the tears to fall and he pushes the tray off of the work space, watching as the experiment falls to the ground and scatters everywhere.  

 

“So I can’t be brilliant.” Lance mutters to himself, defeated, “that’s why I don’t have a thing.” 

 

He leaves the Infirmary down toward the Hangar where Blue sits, uncannily catlike despite being a mechanical Lion.  

 

_ Paladin!  _ She roars, her joy overflowing him, she crouches low so her huge jaw touches the floor of the hangar and Lance smiles.  

 

“Hey there Blue.” Lance says faintly, and he wonders if Blue knows of his failure and thinks nothing of it.   

 

_ It is no failure,  _ Blue purrs gently, and Lance leaps into the air at her clear voiced response, yelping.  Blue tries to nuzzle him with her jaw again, only to knock him over because of her sheer size.  

 

_ My apologies Paladin!  _ Blue says,  _ I must say again that you did not fail.   _

 

“But it didn’t work.” Lance says, slumping against her claw, “I threw up- I couldn’t make the medicine, I couldn’t-” 

 

_ Do not give up!  _ Blue interrupts,  _ Those are not the words of my Paladin, Lance Mcclain-Sanchez.  _

 

“These were always the words of your Paladin.” Lance sighs, “Welcome to the world that is my mind.  What a Paladin I am, huh.” 

 

_ Nonsense!  _ Blue practically booms in his head-  _ I do not make mistakes when I choose Paladins. You tried to do what was right for your team and yourself.   _

 

Lance sighs and presses the heel of his palms against his eyes to hold back more tears.  

 

“How am I gonna go back there and fight?” How am I gonna help form Voltron?” He feels tears fall and he hiccups out a sob.  

 

Blue forms a shield around them and Lance sighs, shaking and all self loathing and Blue’s consciousness strokes against his, her comfort unquestioning and something Lance yearns for.  

 

_ You will be great my Paladin,  _ Blue says solemnly,  _ In battle, as  a part of Voltron, you will be great.   _

 

Lance doesn’t laugh at her, but he feels a bubble of amusement in his stomach at how serious she seems.  

 

“Thanks.” He says anyway, “For believing in me.  I’m such a mess.” 

 

When Lance gets up, the shield falls and he turns to Blue.  

 

“I know you’ll hate it- but I kind of want you to choose Allura as the Blue Paladin.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lance ur an idiot. 
> 
> Shiro's tryna be a dad. 
> 
> My son try.


	3. Altruistic

_“I kind of want you to choose Allura as the Blue Paladin.”_

 

_Lance feels a ripple of unease spread through him, one that does not feel like his own and he presses his palm against his face- exasperated._

 

“Yeah yeah I know- she’s the captain and Pilot of the Castleship and the only one who can probably pilot the Castleship, but I’m pretty sure Coran can do it on his own easy! Allura is perfect as the Blue Paladin!”

 

 _Allura of Altea-_ Blue counters suddenly in a steely tone, _Is more qualified in Piloting the Red Lion than Piloting me._  

 

“But you’re the friendliest!” Lance protests.  

 

 _It means nothing,_ Blue says, _Lions are not friendly to just any person._

 

“Okay…” Lance trails off, “then choose anyone you deem worthy.”

 

_Paladin I deemed you worthy and I still deem you worthy._

 

Lance flushes at her words and he clenches his fists,

 

“Well…. _I_ , choose someone for the future!”

 

 _Paladins are granted long lifespans,_ Blue practically deadpans, _There is no need._

 

“Well I’m not planning to be a Paladin in the future.” Lance says uncertainly and he threads his hands through his hair, his heart pounding suddenly.  His intention suddenly dawns on her.  

 

 _If you intend to place this treachery upon yourself like this,_ Blue says seriously, _Then I will not hesitate to alert the other Lions._

 

“It’s not treachery if it’s true,” Lance says, “You deserve better Blue.   I don’t deserve you- and I- I don’t have a thing.  I’m not that smart or strong or great.  The others don’t need me Blue, they need someone capable.  If you inform that other Lions will they inform their Paladins?”

 

 _Perhaps,_ Blue rumbles- _Depends on their relationship with their Lions._

 

“Look Blue, “Lance sits in front of her, exhausted and sad, “You need a new Pilot, the team needs a healthy Blue Paladin, someone who could connect with Voltron easier.”

 

He feels like he’s rambling but his head pounds endlessly and tears bead around his eyes again- Blue must probably hate him by now.  

 _You are not speaking with your mind Paladin._ Blue’s voice is an ocean whisper and Lance seizes his hair, hating himself.  

 

“Do this for me Blue.” He says, frustrated, “Choose another Paladin, hell- choose Coran!”

 

Silence- Lance hears silence and he hates it with a rigorous passion, but he accepts her silence so he stands and decides to leave, only to be aggressively blocked by a blue shield.  

 

 _I do not hate you Paladin,_ She says as Lance touches the shield, _I have never hated you._

 

“You’re pitying me.” Lance says coolly.  

 

_Do not be foolish! I do not pity.  I am concerned for you, extremely concerned._

 

“The Paladins need a better Blue Paladin.” Lance says seriously, “I need you to choose a new Blue Paladin.”

 

 _What will you do with the others? What will you do when battle commences and I haven’t made my decision?_  

 

“I’ll-” Lance is breathless- as if he’s been punched and he threads his hands through his hair again, “I don’t know.”

 

_You speak without your mind Paladin- as long as you live, you are my Pilot and are worthy to fly me.  Just like how Zarkon is equally worthy to fly the Black Lion despite his wretchedness._

 

Lance laughs, a dry humorless laugh.  

 

“Are you comparing me to Zarkon?”

 

Blue makes a noise in his head that sounds like a scoff- _Hardly_ , she mutters, _Just know that Paladins will always be Paladins._

 

“I know.” Lance says, “That’s why I’m asking you to choose now so you’ll have someone when I’m gone.”

 

 _This is not altruistic Paladin,_ Blue warns but she makes a sighing sound, _But Will it make you satisfied if I choose Allura as the Blue paladin before you Proceed?_  

 

Lance purses his lips into a thin line and he nods.  

 

“Thanks Blue, you won’t regret it I swear.”

 

Blue crouches, her shield falling away and she nudges Lance.  Lance falls over, flat on his face, breath knocking out of his lungs.  He scrambles to his feet and skitters out of the hangar in partial panic.  He can hear his Lion roaring wildly as he closes the hangar door.  

 

Lance jogs back to his room, coming across Keith who stops him- slightly frazzled.  

 

“I heard a Lion roaring- just going crazy, is everything alright?” Keith asks, eyes full of concern and Lance knows it’s not concern for him.  

 

“Yeah yeah. It’s fine, it’s nothing actually.” Lance says and it strikes him him how her roar might have shook the castle walls.  

 

“That is the second time I heard a roar in the castle.” keith says thoughtfully.  

 

“Well- yeah- it’s nothing.” Lance says, irritated and Keith looks taken aback, guilt drops in Lance’s stomach like a weight and he groans, “I’m sorry.” He whines, then an idea comes to him and he takes Keith’s arm and pulls him along the hallway, irritation melting away.

 

“What are you doing?” Keith asks, alarmed.  

 

“I wanna give you something.” Lance says and they stop at his room.  He goes under the bed and pulls out his handmade Blue Lion slippers, Keith at the door.  

 

“I want you to have these.” Lance says, exhausted out of his mind, no longer irate.  

 

Keith is surprised as Lance holds the pair of carefully crafted slippers out to him.  He doesn’t move.  

 

“I know they’re not red.” Lance says tiredly, “You can dye them red or something. It’s a gift.”

 

Keith takes them hesitantly, flabbergasted and Lance sees the disbelief in his eyes.  

 

“These were your favorite slippers.” Keith notes quietly, holding the shoes in his fingertips.  

 

“Well-” Lance huffs, “they’re nothing, really- you can have them.  Show them to Blue sometime for me?”

 

“Sure.” Keith scratches the back of his head and leaves Lance’s room and Lance sits on his bed, picking at tufts of his hair with his fingers.  The slippers were his greatest creation, better than his knits on earth and his most difficult one- Lance feels proud to have worn them at one point.  

  


 Lance closes the door to his room and lays down on his bed, dread filling his stomach, dread and calm.  How would it be done? Is it possible to just die in space painlessly? How can he do it without Blue rushing to his rescue?

 

Lance’s eyes slip closed for a second and he breathes out quietly, despite his head screaming incessantly, his stomach whirling and his skin burning.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT BOI THANK FOR ALL OF THE KUDOS AND THE BOOKMARKS. Comments make me happy tbh. I only posted this on thursday? holy shittt???? 
> 
> Also ye, short chapter not cause I'm motivated it's cause I have it all written down and ready for typing. 
> 
> A lot of it is weird and bad, but I write it anyways!!
> 
> Also Lance wtf.


	4. Absence

_ It must be Christmas time back at home, and it makes Lance ache.  How many Christmases did they spend missing him? Lance is in a nondescript room with a couple of chairs- almost like a waiting room wearing his Paladin armor and through a glass window he sees his Mami, his Papi, Abuelita and every one of his siblings, singing in the living room, surrounded by even more distant family.  The music is loud and it’s familiarity brings a swell of joy and sadness to his heart.  It’s a song from a Puertorriqueno-Cubano band, that everyone jokingly said was not very authentic at the time, but at the moment Lance doesn’t care because his face is pressed up against the glass of the window, unable to join them.   _

 

_ Mami plays at the guiro, and she seems happy, but a birthday cake sits on the coffee table nearby.  Papi is playing the bongo drums and his older sister, Lisa creates a steady rhythm with familiar heavy wooden sticks. Everyone is singing, but he cannot hear their voices, only the song of La Fiesta de Pilito- and Lance softly sings along, chest clenching- _

 

_ “A comer pastel ya comer Lechon, arroz con gandule y a beber ron…”  It was the only song  where he knew the spanish fluently.    _

 

_ The scene blurs out and Lance nearly panics, because now light filters into the living room and no one is there- instead, his younger sister runs in and sits on the couch in front of the TV, holding a very familiar breakfast food.   _

 

_ Lance sighs- it must be Saturday, and his little sister Benita is watching morning cartoons while eating a Pastelito con Guayaba Y Queso.  It is one of his favorite breakfast pastries next to Pastelito de Carne.  Of all of the things his Abuelita makes homemade, Pastelitos are not one of them, because El Palacio Cubano makes them damn near perfect and they were almost literally a street walk away.  He can almost taste the cheese and the sweetness of the Guava and it only gives him a punching sensation in the chest.  _

 

_ Fuck, he misses them.  The flavor of Pastelito is only a ghost’s sensation and his hands shake as his fingers are pressed against the glass of the window.   _

 

_ Abuelita used to teach him how to cook or at least let him help out in kitchen.  She’s a portly caramel skinned woman who makes giant pots of Arroz Morro y Arroz Blanco and slow cooks masitas de carne and cooks tostones from scratch for dinner.  While she would cut the masitas raw, he would help peel the platano and cut them into slices ready for frying.   _

 

_ At the Garrison, Lance would tell Hunk the stories of his Abuelita in the kitchen and he would ask for her recipes.  Lance knew that there was no recipe, only the skill honed down from family member to family member and he promises Hunk that he would teach him how to cook tostones and masitas and Arroz Morro.   _

 

_ He misses those days, now Lance can only taste the bland flavor of food goo, and feel extremely far away from Earth, from days when he taught Hunk how to make his favorite home foods.   _

 

_ Now everything is gone.   _

 

_ Space holds nothing for him despite his love for it, it stripped away everything he loved and loves.  The fight against Zarkon is never ending, as if he’ll spend his entire life fighting.   _

 

Lance is not a soldier- that’s a realization that came early on in the mission against Zarkon.  This is a war, and he is a specialized soldier, only a child really who had the prospect of being a fighter class pilot later in life.  Keith expects him to be a soldier, Shiro even more despite never really completing Garrison training, despite never really fulfilling the Military life. 

 

Pidge and Hunk aren’t meant to be specialized soldiers either, but they fit the mold better than Lance ever will with their brilliance and quick thinking and Lance can only dream of home every time they get closer to Zarkon’s defeat.  

 

Sometimes Lance feels the deepest shame when he thinks about how it would have been better if he stayed away from the Garrison and thus away from the Blue Lion and away from the war and away from the pain that is being far from home.  He feels that shame for the Blue Lion  expresses joy at the sight of him, he gets to see new worlds wildly different from his own world and he feels  _ a part  _ of something bigger than anything back on Earth.  Yet, there are no Christmas Parties on the Castle Ship, he feels less a part of that  _ something  _ more than ever and he stands on an ever crumbling platform of stability and calm.  

 

To run away back to Earth is no option for he will suffer the shame of leaving for something  _ insignificant.   _ To be replaced is also a painful thought because he wasted his time being a  _ placeholder  _ for something  _ better _ .  It’s a happy medium, Lance himself will replace the Blue Paladin so the pain of being replaced is not there because it was  _ his choice  _ and his alone, and he won’t run away back to his  _ Abuelita  _ and his  _ mami  _ and  _ papi  _ and Lisa and Benita, baby Agathe and Anton, back to _ Pastelitos _ and  _ Arroz Morro _ and  _ Tostones _ and a time and place where the family would gather around and laugh so loud their breaths would float out of their mouths.  

 

When he thinks of their happiness and their love and their laughter he feels deep  _ vergüenza _ that at one point he was annoyed of it.   _ Que Pena.  _

 

Lance thinks that  _ maybe  _ the pain could be alleviated with Hunk trying to cook a funny space equivalent of  _ Pastelitos  _ or  _ tostones,  _ just to humor him.  Yet, the courage hasn’t dawned upon him, no one spoke of home, no one laughed anymore, no one laughed loud enough that their breath would spiral past their lips.  In the end, war was never fun nor a game and in the end Lance got the butt end of attempting to cope.  Hunk was no longer Hunk and Pidge was no longer Pidge, merely husks of themselves trying to keep themselves tightly sewn together in a war that tears them apart.  Lance was still Lance, but breaking now- everything on the edge because of a medicine that kept him from crying.  

 

\--------

 

When Lance opens his eyes, it’s slow and his cheeks are wet with tears.   _ Home  _ is something he cannot go back to.  No more  _ mami  _ and no more  _ papi _ \- this is it.  

 

A second later Allura’s voice is over the intercom and Lance’s heart goes into overdrive, his connection with the Blue Lion alighting like a flame.  

 

“The Castle’s under attack! Report to your Lions Paladins!” 

 

Lance scrambles, panicked, ready to sweat bullets and shit bricks, fear spiking in his blood.  Lance knows his worse fears are realized and he sprints to the hangar, practically jumping into his Paladin armor, dizzy from anxiety- the armor suddenly too tight.  He grips the zip line hard and when he jumps into his Lion he’s engulfed in a bubble of comfort that barely smothers his all encompassing distress.  

 

“Into the fray.” Lance breathes, dizzy and uncomfortable, “Remember  _ Allura.”  _ and he pats Blue’s dashboard in an almost comforting manner and launches out of Castle ship into the cloud of laser fire and explosions.  Lance rears Blue upward, heart in throat releasing a powerful laser, slashing it halfway through ten tiny Galra ships.  

 

_ “Nice shot!”  _ He hears Shiro’s voice, loud and clear in his head among the tinkling sounds of his dashboard.  He dips farther, toward individual ship, grabbing them individually and tossing them aside into other ships, sending concentrated beams of ice towards their hulls.  He sees glints of white light out of the corner of his eyes.  He hears a scream and he’s torn out of his concentrated reverie, realizing that Pidge got hit and dread spreads through Lance like an infectious disease.  The dread that they’re losing.  

 

A concentrated beam strikes his Lion and he’s spiraling through space- Lance grits his teeth, trying not to black out or completely disassociate with the situation and he starts to shout, pawing for the controls.

 

“Blue!” He wails over the constant beeps of her warning alarms, “Blue are you there?!” 

 

_ Yes- I- am _ .  

 

Lance finds the controls again and rights himself up, flying back to the battlefield, agile and terrified. 

 

“Pidge is hurt Blue,” Lance murmurs, “We need to find the Green Lion.” 

“I’m fine Lance.” Pidge says over the comm and Lance realizes that his own comm is turned on, embarrassment poisons his mind and heart.  

 

“Oh right.” Lance laughs nervously, “hah, right, you’re alright…” 

 

He jettisons back into battle without another response and freezes the flexible hull of another Galra ship, kicking it into non-responsiveness, worry clouding his brain. 

 

_ Calm…  _ Blue practically whispers,  _ Practice calm….  _

 

_ “What is that?!”  _  Hunk yells over the comm and when Lance swivels around, he sees a giant Galra robot inhaling broken and destroyed ships, releasing short and powerful beams at the Lions.  

 

“I don’t know, but no one of us can fight it.” Shiro says in response and Lance is dizzy again, breathing so hard he wants to take off his helmet and cry, admit that at that very moment he’s done and dying.  

 

_ No one of us can fight that thing- That means we have to form Voltron,  _ and he wants to be thrilled at the aspect of forming Voltron, but he feels like he’s  _ dying  _ and that he cannot concentrate and every other thought on his mind is broken up into tens of millions of pieces and spread out along the corners of his brain, never to be recovered.  His chest is being pressed down by an immeasurable force, his breath flowing out of his mouth and lungs and he’s dying and hyperventilating hard.  

 

_ “Help me…”  _ Lance mumbles to himself, vision warping and spinning.  

 

_ “Lance are you okay? What did you say?”   _ It’s Shiro who says that and Lance jerks so hard that he sees nothing for a second before a barrage of colors fade back into his vision.  His chest hurts as if he’s been stabbed and he manages out a small voiced, 

 

_ “Nothing!”  _  on the edge of wanting to die and scrambling for life.  

 

So the five Lions dive toward the robot, starting with laser beams, then specialties, chattering plans among each other and Lance feels as if their voices are floating and melding and  _ making no goddamn sense.  _

 

_ Help me,  _ he wants to say to them,  _ help me I’m dying- _ except he isn’t, except he is.  

 

Lance contributes, steaking ice along the Robot Beast’s front and face, a distraction- doesn’t matter, he can barely comprehend the other Paladin’s plans.  He would say retreat, but that’s never an option, live to see another day, plan another day- but hit it while it’s hot is always a good plan apparently.  

“What do you think Lance?” Shiro’s phrase spears through Lance like a knife, and Lance knows it’s an attempt to make him feel included but it comes out of left field and sends him into another whirl of panic.   _ What were they planning? I wasn’t listening!  _

 

Lance doesn’t respond for a good ten seconds. 

 

“Uh, Lance?” 

 

“I um- it’s good.” Lance says, sounding absentminded but his mind is scrambling to keep his stability threads sewn tight, to not burst at his badly manufactured seams.  He clutch plans are never clutch.  Never ever- he sits awake sometimes and comes up with the most bizarre scenarios and they only work a fifth of the time.  

 

“What do you mean ‘It’s good?’” Keith fires at Lance, and Lance wants to throw off his helmet and fire himself into space right then and there because whatever they were planning is probably  _ great  _ and Keith is nitpicking just to see him squirm.  

 

“What are you, testing me?’ Lance asks testily, grinding his teeth together, “Whatever you said- it’s a good plan.” 

 

“You weren’t even listening?!” Pidge shouts, voice shrill through Lance’s comm.  

 

“Alright,break it up! At this point- we won’t be able to form Voltron.” 

 

_ Because of me- I wasn’t listening, I should have been listening.   _

 

_ You should have been listening! You have the clutch plans!  _ His sneering thought returns and starts to build up his headache and Lance’s throat has a lump in it. 

 

_ I know I know I know- I don’t know what’s wrong with me.  _

 

_ But your Plans are never clutch,  _ The sneering voice huffed sarcastically.  

 

_ At this point we won’t be able to form Voltron.   _

 

Lance now definitely feels chastened and he places one hand on the dashboard, closing his eyes, pressure building in his forehead.  

 

_ See Blue? Told you so.   _

 

And her lack of response proved his point.  

 

“We’re retreating.” Hunk says and Lance realizes that this scenario feels extremely familiar, but instead of relief from an extreme manic high he feels relief and dread from the retreat. 

 

When they return to the Castleship and wormhole jump their escape, Lance stays in Blue, panting, eyes wide with fear, heart pounding and a million different voices repeating things quietly in his head.  

  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh shit. 
> 
> BTW THANK FOR THE COMMENTS BCAUSE ALL OF THEM ARE GOOD AND iDON'T KNOW HOW TO GIVE A PROPER UNIQUE RESPONSE TO THEM. AAAA 
> 
> I wanna say ;) but at the same time like, idk man it may or may not. Because I fucks with Lance, cause I also suffer with him.
> 
> So ye longer chapter //thumbs up


	5. Expiry

“I’m sorry Blue.” Lance murmurs, voice cracking with terror, unable to hear for seconds at a time, “I’m so sorry.”

 

His skin thrums wildly and he can’t stop gasping.  When he inhales it’s stuttered and shaky, his vision swirling in and out of focus.  His fingers are wrapped tightly around the controls, tears welling in his eyes and throat tight.  

 

Blue says nothing, but her consciousness is comforting, brushing against his but every time Lance tries to breathe it becomes difficult.  His mind races, task after task building upon his mind.

 

 

  * __He has to go to the Bridge and face the team__



 

 

 

Lance pries his own fingers off of the controls of the Blue Lion and he walks out of her, hands trembling uncontrollably.  He can hear muted, far off voices that sound familiar to him and he shakes his head to get rid of them, only to fail.  

 

When he gets to the Brig, everyone turns to him and Lance’s breath hitches in his throat.  Allura is glaring at him, she looks more furious than ever.  

 

“I can’t believe that you couldn’t form Voltron!” She says turning on her heel, “That beast was like most of your opponents! What held you back?”

 

Shiro glances at him, Lance looks away, heart dropping, inhaling sharply to keep from crying.

 

“Lance was arguing with us.” Keith starts, and Lance blinks suddenly, mind spinning, he turns to him- surprised.

 

“ _And,”_ Pidge adds, annoyed, “He wasn’t listening to any of the plans we were making.”

 

Lance swallows, anxious, Allura strides up to him, imposing and terrifying.  His voice is trapped in his throat.  

 

“Well?” She demands.  

 

“I- I-” He scrapes his mind for a memory, and an inkling of truth from that battle, all he gets is a sensation of exhaustion and fear, “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?”  Allura asks sharply.

 

“I don’t know, Princess Allura.” Lance says again, truthfully, “I don’t know.”

 

“Well, you were the one arguing,” Keith began and _there it was again,_ that irritation and Lance inhales and holds his breath.  

 

“You heard Keith, were you arguing?” Allura says.

 

Lance exhales, sharp and shaky a lump in his throat.  

 

“No-”

 

“That’s not what we heard,” Keith started again and Lance’s teeth chatters.  He’s not cold.  

 

“No I wasn’t arguing.”

 

“You also weren’t listening, _that’s_ we couldn’t form Voltron.” Pidge says and a scream builds in his throat, pushing and pushing and pushing.  

 

“I don’t know.” Lance says, dizzy.  

 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Allura asks again, voice on edge, “Lance we _cannot_ have this from you, especially when you barely contribute to the team.”

 

_Ouch._

 

“I know.” Lance breathes, out of it- the scream, the potential scream pulses in his throat.  

 

“What do you mean, ‘You know?’” Allura seems bewildered and still very furious.  

 

“I know.” Lance repeats, voice hoarse, he looks at her heart pounding, “I know- I know.”

 

“Know, what?”

 

“I know!” His scream folds out of his mouth, brief and uncontrollable and surprising and in that moment tears well in his eyes and stream down his cheeks.  He backs away from Allura, from the team, his heart pounding in his throat.  

 _She’ll make and excellent Blue Paladin,_  He thinks gloomily and he sighs hoarsely, it will be over soon, this will be it.  He walks towards the exit of the brig and stops- staring at the open hallway.  

 

“Thanks.” He says in a shaky exhale, and peace washes over him, blank and final.

 

“What?” Shiro asks him, Lance flinches, he’s glad that Shiro cannot see it.  

 

“Thanks,” He says again, “For tolerating me.” He internally cringed at the phrase but bites the feeling and pushes onward, feeling thick and guilty, “and for being my friends.  I’ll see you, I guess”

 

And he walks into the hallway without another word.

 

 

 

Lance can’t hear the other paladins with the pressure in his ears and peaceful fear in his chest, and urgent feeling in his gut.  He weaves to the elevator and towards the infirmary where he could find a scalpel- better than being tossed out of an airlock, and to be honest, more effective.  

 

He’s in the infirmary, silent loneliness pressing down on him.  He notices four very familiar mice squeaking at him, their luminous eyes staring at him with curiosity.  Lance stares back at them, just as curious- can they tell Allura anything?

 

He shakes off the idea, they’re not concerned enough, nor are they smart enough to see what he’s planning and when he finds the scalpel a wave of ocean like peace descends on him again.

 

 _Allura will make a great Paladin;_ Lance reaffirms solidly and he pockets the scalpel, leaving the Infirmary.  

 

The mice are following him, probably expecting food, but Lance gets a niggling feeling that they’re monitoring him. He turns to them, tired.

 

“I don’t have food.” He says finally, “Shouldn’t you be with Allura or something?”

 

One mouse squeaks with indignance, they all stand there stubbornly, watching him blankly and he shakes his head as he strides to the bathroom, armor and all.  

 

“I don’t think your mental link with Allura goes this far.” Lance says when he gets to the door, a slight tinge of frustration buzzing in his head, “So why are you following me?”

 

They squeak again at him and his suspicions are reaffirmed, he groans and slaps a hand over his face.  

 

“Tell Allura I’m fine, okay? Or that I know I screwed up or that I’ll…” He trails off when he is about to say, ‘come down later’ and the lie is heavy on his tongue.  

 

“I’m gonna take a shower, then go and train really hard.” He says firmly, “Tell her that.”

 

He slides into the bathroom and shuts the door, rubbing his swollen eyes.

 

 _Choose Allura okay?_  He prays, practically begs and he sheds his armor, wondering if not leaving a note will lessen or add pain- Lance doesn’t know.  

 

He turns on the faucet to the weird Altean sink, waiting for the water to get warm and he balances the scalpel in hand.  Lance needs Blue to know that Allura is the new Blue Paladin and that someone like him isn’t good for the team.  

 

 _How selfish,_ The sneering voice, now soft says lightly, _someone like me- you can’t shove that responsibility on someone else._

 

 _Being a Paladin is too awesome-_ Lance fights back, _Allura can handle the Blue Lion, literally anyone can.  It’s not selfish when you’re an obvious seventh wheel, a weak link in the team._

 

 _It’s a pattern,_ Lance wants to joke and he trails the scalpel across his wrist, inhaling deeply.  At the Garrison, at regular school, even here in deep space- he’s a weak link.  

 

He runs his skin under the warm water and when he pulls out his hand, he digs the edge of the scalpel into the flesh- a burn licking along his skin, as if his body doesn’t want it, but he, Lance, does.  

 

He swipes quickly, gritting his teeth and immediately Lance makes a mess of blood into the sink and on he scalpel, the wound wide enough for it to flow free.  

Lance gasps, gripping the sink edges, world slipping from beneath his fingertips and he grabs the scalpel with his burning hand, fingers shaking and trembling and Lance realizes that he cannot hold the blade since his fingers are numb and cold.  

 

The metal clatters into the sink among the sea of scarlet and Lance buckles, heart thudding frantic and loud in his ear, begging to live and vision skewing- god he’s in so much pain.  

 

When does it end?

 

_Allura’s gonna be a great Paladin._

 

Lance hyperventilates from the thudding of his heart, the blood, the cold- the _burning_ and he cries out, a sob bursting weak from his chest.  

 

“I’m so sorry.” He murmurs and his mind wavers into a purple haze of mumbling and half coherency.    

 

 

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha get rekt o shi-
> 
> also 
> 
> thank you to each and every one of you!!! 
> 
> It's not over BY THE WAY.


	6. Threshold

Allura, in all of her regalia stands at the center of the brig, swamped along the sea of stars in the star map.  Shiro wants to assume that Allura’s holographic control panel is mostly used as a star map, but at the moment it’s being used as an analysis grid, with their latest opponent on display.  It’s a Robeast, one with no name and Shiro noticed in Voltron’s last combat  situation, this Robeast acted similar to another Robeast- except more powerful with it’s ability to inhale different types of material and create hyper concentrated laser fire with it.  At the moment, Allura is scrolling through pages on her Altean dashboard after she took off the display graphic of the latest Robeast and she turns off the star map and the display.  

 

“Paladins.” She says, all seriousness and clear voice, “There is no question that Voltron must be formed to defeat Andromeda.” 

 

Pidge called the Robeast Andromeda, because of the lack of a name for it, and Shiro didn’t protest against it, despite his dislike on naming the robot. 

 

“But we can’t form Voltron.” Keith says, “Not without Lance.” 

 

Shiro feels a stab in his chest, his lips are dry and nervous.  Shiro doesn’t have as much emotional intuition as Hunk, but he does have  a sense of worriment.  He feels as if something is wrong.  The mention of Lance drops the temperature of the room down a few degrees.

 

“Then at the moment,” Allura says, her voice holding a tinge of ice, “We will have to figure out how to defeat Andromeda without Voltron.” 

 

“Lance is apart of our team.  If we cannot form Voltron without Lance, then we will have to improve our bond together- including Lance.” Shiro says to her and Allura sighs a little, melancholic.  

 

“It has to be an option Shiro.” Pidge says, “I love Lance, and I’m kinda worried for him, but we can’t have him bailing out on the bond at the last minute when you say ‘form voltron!’” 

 

“We’ll work with him.” Shiro says, “It probably wasn’t his day,” and he can only think of Lance screaming so loud, wielding a  _ mace  _ of all things and barreling toward him.  How Lance cried before him after he blocked Lance’s attack, how Lance pretended as if his moment of attack Shiro doesn’t exist.  

 

“It’s never Lance’s day.” Keith says, exasperated, “What is Lance’s problem anyway?” 

 

Shiro glances at all of them, Keith is annoyed and Pidge mirrors his expression, Hunk looks worried and uncomfortable- unusually silent.  

 

“We’ll deal with Lance later.” Allura says says suddenly, “For now we need to come up with solutions on how to defeat Andromeda, without Voltron.” She glances at Shiro, a softened apologetic look upon her face.  

 

Something is missing and it tips Shiro off a little, a rumble of anxiety at the base of his stomach. 

 

_ The mice _ , he thinks, troubled,  _ The mice followed Lance out of the brig.   _

 

Everyone seemed a little unsettled, Shiro noticed- especially Hunk who seemed to be visibly distressed.  

 

“Hunk, anything’s the matter?”  Shiro asks suddenly, and Keith, Pidge and Allura look at him, surprised.  Hunk jumps a little, looking even more distressed.  

 

“No, nothing! I was just thinking maybe we can turn it’s beam capability off so we can pick it off one by one?” 

 

Shiro gives Hunk a little comforting smile and he turns to Allura, expression level.  

 

“What do you think princess?” 

 

“It may be possible to destroy certain parts of the Robeast, but that requires knowledge on how Andromeda was built.” Allura says thoughtfully and Shiro turns to Pidge, 

 

“Pidge do you think you can come up with a way to get a full picture of Andromeda?” 

 

“Well, if I can get close enough to Andromeda without being completely blown away, I can get a data sample.”  

 

“Good, we’ll start there, then we can improve the Paladin bond.” 

 

It seems perfect, if Pidge got it right they’d be able to destroy key systems of Andromeda without Voltron, then improve their relationship with Lance.  Shiro inhales a little, then exhales, a part of his anxiety washes away at the formation of a proper plan- at the moment, it was almost like an alternate exercise: what to do when not all of the parts are working. Yet, a part of him still feels a stirring in his chest, a certain disquiet floating in the air.   The mice are not present and neither is Lance- Shiro should have tried harder to get him to stay despite the dreadful atmosphere created before. 

 

An expression of relief descends upon Allura’s face- and Shiro notices that she too might have had some trouble about the lack of a plan.  

 

“Pidge will start creating the analysis software.”  Allura starts, “and will probably use the green lion’s cloaking capability to get close to Andromeda,” 

 

The door to the brig opens and Shiro turns, expecting Lance but suddenly seeing the multicolored Mice skitter past his legs and onto Allura’s hand, her expression rapidly turning from surprise to worriment.  Shiro silently gulps, the tension in the air thick and the mice jump off of her hand and toward the open door.

 

“Lance is in the bathroom and he won’t come out.”  Allura says to the Paladins and Shiro’s fears slowly become realized, “The mice sense something is wrong.” 

 

Shiro knows for a second what that ‘wrong’ is an he clenches his fists, his mind thinking about the should haves and the could haves and times when  _ it  _ seemed plausible for  _ him,  _ but not now, not when he has a crew to lead now.  He thinks about the should haves and the could haves and thinks that maybe  _ he has time.   _

 

“Take me to him,” He tells the mice, and they race out into the hallway, Shiro having to run to catch up to them, but also to save  _ time.   _ They stop at a sliding door- bathroom, Shiro notices that it’s locked.  

 

“Lance?!” He shouts into the bathroom- no answer, “Lance, open up- we think something’s wrong,” 

 

And dammit something  _ is  _ wrong, but Shiro doesn’t want it to be so, he still needs  _ time.   _

 

His palm bangs on the door, panic and frustration stewing underneath his skin and he glances at Pidge who is behind him, confused and worried.  

 

“Pidge, can you hack the door open?” 

 

“I can sure try.” She says, and a small screen appears on her armored arm, she taps a couple of characters on the screen and she looks up at Shiro, nodding.  

 

“Lance I’m coming in!” Shiro says and he taps the Altean door lock and the doors slide open.  

 

It’s too late- it’s got to be too late, there is so much _blood-_ so much more than he’s seen at the Galra prison.  Shiro’s breathless, human blood and rank _smells-_ sharp and fresh and he’s never smelled his own blood, nor seen so much of another human’s gore. Pidge and Hunk are screaming- Shiro’s dazed, dizzy at the smell- blood has so many consistencies in different bodies, different colors, his throat is thick and he shakes his head to stop the barrage of memories about other Alien bodies, and how they bled. 

 

Lance is half naked, on the floor and twitching.  The Altean sink is running but it’s still smeared in scarlet, a holographic blue scalpel in its center, in the corner his Paladin armor lays in a heap.  The floor is stained with a healthy amount of crimson and Lance is  _ pale,  _ paler than he’s ever seen a human eyes half open  and glassy, but Shiro sees a twitching heave and it throws him into action, pushing Hunk and Pidge out of the room, going onto his knees and ending up at Lance’s side. 

 

_ He has time, he wasn’t too late- Lance is alive.   _ Shiro checks his pulse, relieved that it’s beating feebly and he sees a gash along Lance’s wrist, wide and still slowly bleeding.  He looks up at Pidge and Hunk who are still horrified and Keith who stands at the edge of the door, disbelief on his face. 

 

_ “Help me!”  _ He says, and Hunk runs out of the room- probably to get a tourniquet and Shiro knows that he’ll be too long- and he scoops Lance into his arms, running out of the room and toward the Infirmary- he sets Lance down onto the floor, not thinking and Hunk is already in there, scrambling for a bandage of some kind, he seems to have found one and he throws it at Shiro who wraps it above the gash in Lance’s wrist.  Allura enters the the infirmary, pale and stricken and tries to set up one of the healing pods, joining Hunk and pulling out a healing pod body suit.  

 

She is at Shiro’s side, quiet and nervous and he helps her dress Lance who moves his head a little- relief barely dropping in his stomach.  

 

“ _ I’m sorry.”  _ Lance murmurs, he inhales a little, Shiro and Allura freeze, Lance’s eyes flicker,  _ “‘m sorry…”  _

 

“It’s fine, it’s okay- you’re forgiven.” Shiro says, and the two place him into the pod as Lance’s eyes close.  

 

_ “‘M sorry…”  _ Lance repeats and Allura unravels the tourniquet, and closes the pod.  He falls silent and Shiro stares, heart thrumming wildly.  Allura stares at the pod, and her eyes fill with tears and she turns away from the pod for a second, her hand covering her mouth.  Hunk leans on the workspace and he’s openly crying. Pidge is with him, hugging Hunk and pressing her face against his side.   

 

Shiro sighs, exhausted yet relieved,  his palm pressed against his eye.  

 

_ Lance is alive,There was still time.   _

 

When Lance wakes up it’s going to be a shit storm and he knows it.   

  
  
  


__

  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HOLY SHIT FAM. ONE HUNDRED KUDOS??? WILD tHAT'S WILD. 
> 
> It took me legit a week or two to plan out this chapter and I just tried writing it because the already written scene was shitty and less coherent. 
> 
> Sorry if this is short. Also, yeah, POV changes and it's Shiro.


	7. Paroxysm

The blood on the floor is dry and Shiro inhales sharply as he scrubs it, dizzy from the fumes of the cleaning fluid Coran gave him.  As a prisoner, as a champion, gore came in rainbows and in different types of sharp smells, sometimes in red and that’s where he would panic the most.  

 

Shiro closes his eyes as he presses the Altean scrubber into the cobalt looking tile, head spinning and he scrubs harder the sponge covered in rusty flakes. Why don’t the Alteans have self cleaning castles? It’s a question pressing into Shiro’s mind as he wipes the last of the stain.  

 

Shiro stands, glad that the only smell practically burning his nostrils is the Altean bleach and he wrinkles his nose at the irritation, staggering a little out of the bathroom, knees aching from being on them for a varga or two.  

 

There’s a lot of uncertainties within the universe, but one thing is for certain is that Human Blood is fucking _rank._ In all of his times of fighting, of all of the unfamiliar it is the rankest and most stomach turning smell one could be faced with.  

 

Shiro sighs to himself, lump in his throat and a buildup of worry behind his eyes, unease fluttering through him, through skipped seconds at a time.  He walks toward the infirmary and when the door opens, he sees Allura adjusting the setting to Lance’s healing pod.  

 

“Shiro.” Allura acknowledges without turning and when she does turn to him the apples of her cheeks are ruddy.  

 

“How is he Princess?” Shiro asks and Allura sighs a little, rubbing her cheeks.  

 

“He’ll be fine.  You know, I thought he was attacked.”

 

Shiro purses his lips into a thin line and Allura turns back to the pod, worry etched onto her face.  

 

“He wasn’t attacked was he.” Her voice is tired and Shiro sees no queenship in her posture.  

 

“No, Princess.” Shiro says and his chest tightens at the thought.  He stares at a glowing cerulean graphic on Lance’s pod display, “He tried to commit suicide.”

 

It comes out almost cold, and the words erupt out of him like a curse and he flinches at himself.

 

“Why would Lance do this? To himself? To us?” Allura asks, helpless incensed and confused, “He… Why?  He knew the importance of Voltron, why would he-?”

 

Her opalescent eyes glittered and she takes a few short breaths as if she’s trying to hold back tears- or anger.  

 

Shiro doesn’t answer, swallowing a little- why would Lance do this?

“I don’t know.” Shiro says, voice quieter than he has ever allowed it, “He loved the team.  He loved Blue.  I don’t know, I-”

 

He bites his lip, chest swelling and Allura rubs his bicep in a comforting manner eventually engulfing him into a quiet hug.  

 

_Lance is alive, Lance is alive- but it would be a shit storm when he wakes up, and yet there’s the idea that Lance would not want to be alive._

 

Shiro hugs her back, nose burying into her iridescently white hair, fingers shaking.  

 

“I don’t know if I’m doing anything right.” He murmurs to her and her hug becomes tighter and almost like a vice, her face burying into his chest.

 

“You should get some sleep Princess.” He says when they part, “It’s been a rough day.”

 

Allura gives him a reserved smile, and Shiro leaves the infirmary taking a look at Lance and sensing a lump in his throat.  He goes down to the Green Lion’s hangar, to find Pidge, hunched over her laptop, hair messy and nose red as if she is sick.  

 

“Pidge, you should rest.” Shiro says, trying to be helpful and Pidge jumps a little, gripping the laptop for purchase.  

 

“All of the signs were there.” Pidge says suddenly, voice clipped and tight and Shiro is taken aback, feeling guilty.  She looks at him as if expecting him to confirm her words, as if Shiro saw the signs too.   

 

“The impromptu thank you, impulsiveness, recklessness-” she continues without Shiro’s answer, “Keith told me that Lance gave his only pair of tailored slippers to him, his breakdown- hell, he didn’t eat for four days straight! How long did we sit on this?”

 

“Did you know Pidge?” Shiro asks suddenly and she flushes and shakes her head, looking chastised.  

 

“Well then, no one sat on it.  It just happened.”

 

_I knew, I knew something was wrong- I let this happen._

 

Pidge presses the palm of her hands into her eyes, groaning.  

 

“How long was Lance planning this?” She asks to herself, “I don’t have any report of Lance trying before, or generally having gallows humor.”  She closes the laptop, running her fingers through her hair.  

“At least he’s alive, right?” Pidge asks and Shiro makes a small scoff that he hoped she did not hear.  

 

“Alive.” Shiro says, “But there’s a bigger problem on our hands.”

 

Confusion flits across her face and she sits up straighter.  He sighs.  

 

“I’m glad he’s alive.” He says, “But what do we do when he wakes up?”

 

Pidge looks stricken with stress.  

 

“Suicide watch maybe?”  She suggests, grabbing a hunk of her hair with her fingers, “Figure out why he tried to do it?”

 

“How do I know if you and the others aren’t feeling the same?” Shiro mutters to her, and she looks at him startled.  

 

“I would tell you.” Pidge says, chuckling a little and then she blinked, “But… Shiro, now’s not the time to be making an example out of Lance.  He’s alive, so now we can figure out why he tried to do it.  If we felt the same way, I think we would have taken a little more initiative on getting it done.”

 

Shiro purses his lips and inhales sharply, yet his face is level.  Pidge gives him a slightly apologetic look.  

 

“I don’t think it takes levels of initiative to try to kill yourself Pidge.” Shiro says, exhaustion weighing on his shoulders.  

 

“You know what I mean.” Pidge says quickly, “Lance wasn’t the most… goal oriented on the team, so if we felt so bad on Lance’s level we would have gotten it over with.”

 

_Was._  Shiro hears was and feels ill and glances at the enormous claw of the green lion, a poke of comfort enters his mind and a slight sensation of ease enters his bones.  

 

“I don’t think you get it Pidge.” Shiro says, “It’s very very easy to find a reason to do it.”

 

Pidge sighs and Shiro rubs his eyes, hating himself- _the signs were all there, it could have taken any initiative to find a reason._ The atmosphere becomes oppressive and silent and Shiro decides to sit cross legged next to her.  

 

“I’m sorry Pidge.” Shiro says quietly, and Pidge gives him a look, her eyes filling with tears.

 

“It’s okay.” She says, wiping away her tears, “I just wish it wasn’t so difficult to figure this out.”

“You don’t have to do it alone.” Shiro says, a comforting lilt in his voice, the poke of comfort becoming a sharp prod of initiative. “No one has to do this alone.”

 

Pidge gives him this watery smile and Shiro pats her on the back.  She then  reopens her laptop and shows him a very complicated execution software that makes his eyes hurt.  

 

“I’m almost done with the analysis software, all I need to do is launch it on my paladin armor and the Green Lion and we’ll be close to figuring out every part of Andromeda’s weaknesses.”

 

Shiro grins at her and stands,

 

“Great job Pidge.”

 

She grins back, turning to her work as Shiro leaves the Green Lion’s hangar.  

 

He goes up to the kitchen where he finds Hunk baking a strange alien equivalent to muffins and Hunk jumps, startled as he pulls them out of the oven setting them down on the countertop.  

 

“Muffin?” Hunk asks, “They’re best eaten when hot.” and he turns back to a bowl and pulls out a doughy lump of smooth gray, placing it on a dusty green workspace nearby the counter.  

 

Shiro takes a muffin and Hunk kneads gray dough in silence, eyes hard.  

 

“Hunk, how are you faring?” and he pulls the top of the muffin apart with his fingers, eating it, surprised to find that it tasted rather savory despite their dark violet color.  

 

“Not good.” Hunk says shortly and he goes to another bowl, dipping his fingers into green powder and punching the dough before molding it into a ball and putting it back into the bowl.  

 

“Do you want to talk about it?” Shiro asks and Hunk puts the bowl into a corner, unusually silent.  

 

“Lance and I have been friends for years.” Hunk says clapping green flour off of his hands, “and he’s told me about almost every problem he’s had from some girl not dating him to his issues with Keith.  I should have seen this coming you know?” He goes to the far end of the kitchen, getting another bowl and gathering a bunch of alien ingredients, measuring them out and placing them into the bowl.  

 

“How so?” Shiro asks, and Hunk speedily mixes the concoction in the bowl.  

 

“He’s told me how much he wanted to kill himself before, you know? Always insisting that he hasn’t done so, and I told him that there was so much more to life.”  His voice is swelling with emotion and he stops, looking away, tears streaming down his cheeks, “I thought he was over it.  I- I’m so dumb.”

“That isn’t true.”

 

“Well, I’m supposed to know that if someone talks about wanting to kill themselves, then help should be given.   _I_ thought it was a joke when Lance told me.” Hunk says, voice unusually steely and sharp and he goes back to mixing in the bowl, “You reap what you sow huh?”

 

He pulls out the spoon and hands it to Shiro.  

 

“Taste.” He demands, “Don’t lick the spoon.”

 

Shiro takes the spoon swipes a finger over the dip and tastes the batter that has a familiar boxed cake color and consistency. A bloom of sweetness is on his tongue and Shiro smiles a little.  

 

“It’s good.” He says and hands the spoon back to Hunk.

 

“Sweet?”  Hunk asks and Shiro nods, “Good, he’s gonna need that flavor when he wakes up.”

 

A glacier of discomfort falls in his stomach and Hunk goes to the cabinets, pulling out a strangely shaped cake pan, pouring the pale yellow batter into the pan.  

 

“When you’re done, can you tell Pidge that I want to have a meeting with the others in an hour or two? We still have to have a meeting about the Robeast with the Princess.”

 

Hunk nods and Shiro leaves the kitchen with a half eaten muffin in his hand and a sensation of not feeling hungry.  

 

He wanders over to the common room, where he sits down and he eats the muffin slowly, thanking the gods out there for a teammate that knew how to cook.  

 

There are two things Shiro now knows about when it comes to Lance and suicide.  

 

 

  * __Lance is already acquainted with the thought of suicide__


  * _Something in space caused Lance to want to commit suicide._



 

Shiro feels as if he should already know about what in space gave Lance initiative, but not one thought comes to him and he sits there, chewing on a unami flavored muffin, the doors to the common room open and Keith walks in, pale and even more sullen than normal.  He sits next to Shiro, quiet and close and says,

 

“I pushed Lance too hard.”

 

Shiro now definitely knows that isn’t true and he gives Keith a look.  

 

“I’m being serious Shiro! I yelled at him, I told him that he was arguing with us when he wasn’t.  You weren’t there when you saw me yell at him!  There was a reason why a Lion roared that day- it was the Blue Lion!”  Keith’s voice breaks and Shiro rubs his shoulder in comfort.  

 

“You don’t understand.” He continues, tears in his eyes, “It’s my fault that Lance wants to kill himself- it’s all my fault.”

 

“Keith.” Shiro says seriously, “Stop it. It’s not your fault- Keith don’t give me that- listen to me, _it isn’t your fault.”_  

 

_It’s my fault,_ Shiro wants to say, _I knew what was going on and I let it happen._  

 

Shiro and Keith sit in silence, then Shiro stands, hating the atmosphere he created and himself once more.  

 

“Come to the Brig with me.”  He says, “We have to discuss Andromeda.”

 

“What about Lance? What do we do about Lance?” Keith asks in a small voice.

 

“He’ll be fine, Lance is alive, Keith and he’ll be out in a varga or two and we’ll figure something out then.”  

 

Shiro and Keith end up in the Brig and Allura is there, staring at the display of the Robeast, sitting at Lance’s chair.  

 

“I want to have another meeting about the progress with the Robeast.  I heard from Pidge that she’s actually almost done with the analysis program.” Shiro says and Allura nods, looking quite impressed.  

 

“It’s only been only _hours_ and Pidge manages to come up with something.  She’s brilliant.”

 

And Shiro had to agree.  

 

Hunk and Pidge enter the Brig a couple of seconds later and Pidge sets her laptop down on her brig dashboard.  Hunk looks detached and morose, still wearing his apron.  

 

For ticks at a time, everyone waited and stared at the doors as if expecting Lance to come waltzing through, face covered in facial cream and wearing his favorite robe and Blue Lion slippers, talking to everyone about the _most awesome_ dream.  Yet nothing happened and Pidge cleared her throat, dispersing the awkwardness.  

 

“Well, it’s still in its draft stages.” She begins sheepishly, “but when it’s fully complete I would be able to get a pretty full comprehensive scan of any sort of mechanical build.”  

“How are you planning to get a full scan of Andromeda without getting obliterated by it?”  Keith asks and he goes over to her seat and dashboard, leaning over her shoulder.  

 

“My cloaking device, hopefully, and I’m going to get it installed on the Green lion so I can connect it to my armor.”

 

“That’s brilliant Pidge. When do you think it would be complete?”

 

“In a couple quintants, it’s gotta lot of parameters to fill.”

 

“I’m sure it’s going to be great.” Shiro reassures, “Everyone should get some sleep.  It’s been a tough day.”  

 

Keith, Hunk and Pidge collectively sigh and they leave bidding Shiro goodnight and once they leave Allura gives him a warm look.  

 

“Good night princess.” He says and he leaves the brig, toward his room and he slips into bed without changing, immediately falling asleep.  

 

_Shiro is standing alone in the Castle Infirmary and an unsettled sensation bubbles in the pit of his stomach.  Confused, Shiro turns to_ _the pods and finds a shattered bloody hole in Lance’s pod.  Shiro walks towards the damage, feeling sick and the smell of gore is thick in his nose.  The pod still glows despite everything,  and a feeling of panic fills his brain as  he finds out that the blood is fresh and bright scarlet and the parts of the inside of the pod are stained so heavily that he cannot see Lance’s face._

 

_Shiro tries to call for Lance, hoping that there is some chance that he would respond but he is met with silence.  A new sensation arises, one slimy and warm and the smell of blood is almost burning  and stronger now, and he glances at his right hand prosthetic, surprised and horrified._

 

_Shiro’s forearm is covered in rusty crimson, the heat from his weaponization feature burning it into a foul smelling odor. He glances at the pod, a scream dying in his throat at the realization and he launches himself at the pod, jostling it slightly and opening it.  Lance falls past him and onto the floor, his throat open and still bleeding freely, his eyes closed._

 

He shoots up in bed so hard that his muscles suffer from the whiplash and he gasps shakily, the images of Lance’s throat and the blood burning into his retinas.  A scream builds in his throat, skin thrumming wildly, face dirty with dried sweat.  He glances at his arm and finds it void of blood and he flings himself out of bed, panicked, sprinting down and towards the Infirmary.  

 

When Shiro gets there, Lance is still in the pod, eyes closed and thankfully- not dead and he inhales deeply, fingers shaking, staggering up to the pod and touching it with his left hand.  

 

“I did not kill Lance Mcclain Sanchez.” Shiro says firmly and out loud and it sounds like a lie to him.  

 

“I did not kill Lance Mcclain Sanchez.” He repeats and when he looks at the pod again, his heart nearly stops when he finds Lance’s throat slit open and bleeding freely.  Shiro closes his eyes- no, _no_ it’s just another nightmare.  When he opens his eyes again Lance’s throat is whole and his suit is clean and he’s still peacefully asleep in the pod.

 

Shiro takes a step back from the healing pod and inhales again,

 

“I did not kill Lance Mcclain Sanchez.”

 

The pod hisses and Shiro jumps at the sharp noise and Lance’s eyes flutter open, and he staggers out of the healing pod.  

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG, thank you to all of you- /all of you/ /holy shit/ that gave me such an overwhelming response to this fic. 
> 
> This was the most difficult chapter to write so far bcause of flow state and shit. 
> 
> I'm bouta enter college for the first time my dude and man it's a stressful endeavor h a h a. 
> 
> So it's pretty long and I'm proud.
> 
> It considered really wack and self wankish to want a lil fanart or somethin? Yeah? ok ill stop now.


	8. Sleepy Awakening

_Lance floats in a cool, sapphire ocean.  Silence presses upon him on all side, silver flitting past him in the form of fish.  He opens his mouth to gasp in surprise at the vividness of this dream and he realizes- he can breathe._

 

_He died.  He died- he’s dead-_

 

_He’s dead._

 

_He’s not dead._

 

_Lance looks where he assumes is up, and finds a shimmering surface, minnows darting by._

 

_It’s so peaceful here._

 

_“Am I dead?” He asks to himself aloud and the voice of Blue comes to him.  He jerks in surprise at her sudden presence._

 

No, Fortunately.  

 

 _“Oh no.” Lance says, and he expects dread to pool in his stomach, to cause him to start screaming, “Allura was supposed to be the Blue Paladin after I died..” Anxiety_ does _collect in his chest and his urge to ramble is stoppered by Blue’s rather clipped calm.  He sits there in the silence, mind blank._

 

_“Where am I?” He asks suddenly, and he leans forward in the water and ends up pitching forward, spinning  upside down the bottom of the dreamy ocean being endless and a deep, dark blue._

 

My mindscape, I assume.  

 

_Lance makes an ‘oh’ sound and he quirks a small smile._

 

_“It’s pretty.”_

 

Thank you.  

 

_His smile soon fades and he looks around._

 

_“Why didn’t I die?”_

 

It’s fate, _Blue’s voice rumbles neutrally,_ The others saw you in the state you were in.  

 

_“But- but Allura-!” ˆ_

I know.  But now that you are alive, you are still my Paladin.  

 

_He starts to rise toward the surface.  The group of fish that were there dart away._

 

_“Wait-” Lance says, “I’m sorry- I- I don’t want to leave.  I- Can I stay here?”_

 

We have to go.  

 

_“I’m sorry.” Lance says again as he gets closer to the surface._

 

I forgive you.  

 

He breaks the surface of the ocean and his eyes are blinded by white light and he ends up tilting and falling out of what he assumes is a healing pod and right into Shiro’s arms. Shiro staggers with surprise as Lance nearly crumples.  

 

He feels exhausted and heavy, not light and grief free when he was in the mindscape and he lays in Shiro’s arms, inhaling and exhaling- every emotion that he expected to arrive, draining out of him.  

 

Lance holds onto Shiro, face partly buried in his chest, unable to speak.  His mind tries to find words and he inhales again, holding his breath and exhaling in a steady stream.  He can feel Shiro’s heartbeat if he stays still enough, thumping in almost a frantic rhythm against his own face.  

 

“This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Lance finally mutters, pulling away, slightly disappointed when Shiro releases him.  He stretches, his muscles pulling and aching, he looks around for the others.  Shiro is alone, he looks… scared?

 

Shiro says nothing, instead stepping toward him and gently placing his non-prosthetic hand against Lance’s cheek- as if he wasn’t real.  

 

Lance swallows a little, a swirl of discomfort appearing in the pit of his stomach.  Shiro’s palm is warm and he gently turns his cheek away, vaguely aware of the imprints Shiro leaves upon his cheek.  

 

“I’m sorry.” He says, a lick of guilt broiling in his stomach.  

 

Something builds within Lance, guilt and anger and grief and sadness- it builds and it flows out from him, as if he’s flushing a drain.  

 

“Lance.” Shiro’s voice is different. It sounds hoarse and uncertain and Lance is startled by the sound of it.  As if the battle with the giant robeast was a million years ago.  

Lance sighs, the hazy memory of the blood, him digging a scalpel into his wrist, and the sound Allura’s jarring and loud voice, all rushing back to him.  He grimaces at the sensation the memories give him.  There is a lump in his throat and he glances at his wrist.  

 

There is an ugly, dark curved scar on the pulse of Lance’s inner arm, curving like a bracelet tattoo and he purses his lips at the prominent mark.  

 

“Lance.” Shiro repeats, he sounds desperate- not frustrated like last time.  Lance takes a deep breath, his voice dying in his throat, all thought chased away.  He steps back, attempting to think.  

 

“Lance, please talk to me.” Shiro walks up to him, non prosthesis on Lance’s bicep, rubbing comfortingly.  

 

Lance looks at him, tongue heavy and throat empty- voiceless.  

 

 _I should be dead-_ comes the first thought, and he doesn’t cry.  He has no energy to spend in order to cry.  

 

 _I failed my team and I should be dead._ It contains a twinge of hurt- a whole lot of hurt, but it rings so true that it stops hurting, like putting pressure on a searing abscess or gaping wound.  

 

Shiro looks exhausted and feverish, dark eyes wide and scared.  

  


“I’m sorry.” Lance says again, he regrets making Shiro lose sleep over him being in between death and life.  

 

Shiro looks at him, for a moment, unreadable and he engulfs him in this tight hug that seems unlike him.  

 

For a split second Lance feels his older cousin, _Juaneta_ and her tight hugs, her neck smelling of vanilla so sweet that it seems almost natural.  He remembers reveling in her embrace.  

 

Lance stands there awkwardly, wondering for a second if Shiro got vanilla cologne and realizes that  there isn’t any in space.  

 

Lance doesn’t return the hug, heart aching for home, and mouth tasting bitter with failure.  

 

“Where is everyone?” Lance asks quietly when Shiro pulls away.  

 

“Asleep.” Shiro responds, voice tired sounding, “You must be exhausted yourself.” He gives him this cautious look, hesitant to let him go.  Lance wants say how sad he is to him, to ramble on and on about his exhaustion and anxiety and his failure to Shiro.  He wants to talk about how sometimes he cannot sleep, how his mind festers with the overwhelming feeling of failure and insignificance, talk about how back at home he took medication to stave off his constantly ill feeling stomach, and drag him upward from practical uselessness.  His voice is lost, however and the sensation is so deep it he cannot describe it properly.  The Garrison, like a lot of places don’t want to hear about his shaking hands and his unshakeable feeling of self-insignificance and Lance figures, that Shiro doesn't want to hear about it either. Lance feels a tiny light of hope, the idea that _maybe_ just _maybe_ Shiro would listen, hear him and tell him that he isn’t useless, that he’s necessary to the team- even if it isn’t true, tell him a lie to drag him from the pit of his own bleakness.  

 

“Yeah.” Lance says and it’s true, his back feels as if it hasn’t seen a real bed in years.  

 

Lance leaves the infirmary, legs feeling like lead, his throat constricting.  As he walks, he wraps his fingers around his throat and he squeezes hard, hoping to God that Shiro doesn’t see him.  

 

He enters his room, exhausted and heavy and he falls onto the bed with the infirmary suit and all.   He falls asleep, and he does not dream.  

Lance’s eyes open and he’s in darkness, still in his infirmary bodysuit and wondering if everyone is still asleep.  He sniffs and nearly gags from how stale he smells and slips out of bed.  The mindscape, the pod… why was Shiro the only one there? Lance shakes his head to himself, trying to gather up a couple of old foggy memories.  All he could remember is the speed of his beating heart when he came to and the overwhelming distress of failure and pain.  Lance walks out of his room and towards the showers, there he strips and stands under the scalding water.  

 

 _I tried to kill myself._ Lance doesn’t say it aloud, but the thought stirs and emotion within him- one he cannot properly place.   _I’m so fucking tired._

 

 _And you failed-_ The sneering voice is there, loud and clear and Lance exhales, skin burning a raw red under the rush of the showerhead.  

 

He can remember these moments where his insides feel empty but his chest flickers and back at home and at the Garrison he would take his anti depressant and his mood stabilizer to lift him up.  

 

There is no medicine here,and the ones he attempted to create ended up as astronomical failures.  Lance scrubs himself so hard, his caramel skin shows through as a brick red.  

 

He steps out of the shower, shivering in the ambient temperature and dries himself, slowly and surely, thanking the Gods for an atmosphere so calm.  

 

Lance dresses and goes to his room, slipping into bed the warm water making him more awake than ever and despite this, he closes his eyes anyway and waits for  sleep to overcome him.  

 

Lance wakes up, for what feels like seconds later but he’s even more tired than ever physically feeling bags under his eyes and he wants to desperately go back to sleep.  He listens to the noise of Keith running by his room and he collects the initiative to drag himself out of bed and meet the others in the Brig.  He sits up and swings his legs over the side of his bed.  

 

Nothing, absolutely nothing scraped his brain and the worst part about it is his lack of simply caring.  At one point, a part of Lance would have panicked, wondered why nothing rose in his mind’s eye, why he felt pure blankness and truly thought nothing.  

 

He sits there, inhaling deeply, and presses his palms against his eyes, fingers wanting to reach within the sockets and pull out the parasite that makes him think nothing.  

 

Lance dresses slowly, his skin thrumming with fragility and he hesitates to walk out of his room, his bubble of loneliness and comfort.  He walks out anyway, wanting to stroll, wanting to avoid the people in the brig but he ends up walking in that direction despite his want, at the end of the hallway to the brig.  

 

A thought arrives, Lance’s throat closes up- he did not want them to panic over him attempting to die but he also wants them to care about him.  He braces himself to expect an either or situation, the unreadable sensation building in his sternum.  

 

Lance enters the Brig and everyone turns to him, surprised and shocked.  Any other day, Lance would have remembered their reactions but he cannot look at them.  

 

Everything happens slowly and Lance can feel his breath being stolen from him- he looks past Alllura, whose face is vaguely worried, and Coran who looks tired and restless.   

 

 _I’m sorry Allura,_ he thinks, _I’m sorry- you were right._

 

He’s suddenly slammed into, and a small figure hugs him tight.  It’s Pidge and her face is pressed hard against his ribs.  She’s crying.  

 

Lance politely hugs her back, once again, voiceless.

 

 _I’m sorry Pidge,_ he thinks, _I’m sorry for making you cry._

 

“Sorry I scared you.” Lance says, and she pulls away her face ruddy.  She punches him in the gut- hard.  

 

“Why didn’t you talk to us?!” She says shrilly, her eyes glittering with tears, her glasses fogging up, “Why didn’t you tell us you were-” She cuts herself off, as if refusing to say it.  Hunk strides toward him, solemn.  Lance doesn’t answer, his voice is completely gone now.  There isn’t a reason- it seems better to not say anything at all.  He can’t look at Hunk in the eye, but he does look a little past him.  Hunk is quiet and pale looking.  Lance feels another wave of guilt.  

 

He feels a little better knowing that the team would function better if they grieved over his death instead of wonder why Lance tried to commit suicide.  He feels a lot worse knowing that he’s the cause of Hunk’s brightness fading away.  Lance knows that a joke seems inappropriate but he quirks a small smile, forcing it to not fade away when Hunk gives him this wholly serious look.  

 

“Sorry about that Hunk.  Y’ know, you look so much better when you smile.” Lance’s voice dies again and sensation, emotion comes back, then fades away again like a tide.  

 

Hunk comes close, not answering and he nearly crushes him and Pidge in an embrace that feels warmer than his expression.  Hunk is shaking, clenching the back of Lance’s shirt and he feels tears drop on the crook of his neck.  

 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Lance says, “Please, Hunk, forgive me.” He hugs back, a tremor rippling through him.  

 

Lance pulls away, and looks over at Keith who is as silent as his brain, gazing moodily at the floor.

 

The urge to speak fades away, Keith looks up at him and walks toward him, Lance wants to recoil, intimidated.   

 

“I’m sorry.” He says shortly and Lance notices how Keith rubs his eyes as if wiping away non-existent tears, “I didn’t expect-”

 

“Don’t worry about it.” Lance says, tired.  He smiles and nudges Keith in the arm with his fist, “Not your fault.”  

 

Keith’s look is unreadable and the atmosphere becomes increasingly tense and choking, Lance wants to be told what to do, wants to move on.  

 

“I’ve been out a while, haven’t  I Princess?” Lance asks and Allura gives a quiet nod.  He hates the atmosphere even more, “How much do I need to brush up on when it comes to battle tactics?”  

 

She looks surprised, but Lance doesn’t have the energy to analyze her expression.  

 

“We’re handling it Lance.” She says and a tick of irritation digs into him- it fades away just as quickly as it arrives.  

 

“I wanna help, what do I need to do?” Lance insists and Allura looks uncertain.  

“We came up with a plan to destroy the Robeast we named Andromeda.” She says.

 

“You’re not gonna defeat it using Voltron?” Lance asks, it would have been easier especially after he died.  

 

“We can’t form Voltron.” Pidge says suddenly, “Not without you,”  

 

A brush of surprise rises within Lance- yes he knows that Voltron cannot be formed without him, but it seems only natural that Allura would replace him.  

 

“So we came up with a tactic that involves not using Voltron.” Allura says and Lance feels an inappropriate lick of flattery.  

 

“I created an analysis software that can check the diagnostics and weaknesses of almost any machine.” Pidge says, and she sits at her brig seat, bringing up a program that Lance feels stupid for trying to read.  Lance can count on Pidge to make and program almost anything, “I’m gonna install this into the green lion and my paladin suit, and we can all figure out places where we can strike.”  

 

“Nice.” Lance mutters and Pidge gives him a tight smile.  

 

“It’s gonna take a couple of days to fine tune.”  

 

“It’s really great.” Lance says, “You did a really good job.  Damn, you work fast.”

 

It’s supposed to be Shiro’s line, that sort of praise.  Shiro is unusually silent, looking at him with this intense stare of what Lance presumes to be concern.  

 

“Thanks.” Pidge says and she smiles at him for the first time in minutes.  

 

“Is there anything else?” He asks.

 

“Well, once we find the weaknesses, we can blast them with our Lions and it would make defeating Andromeda a whole lot easier.”  

 

“Are there any distress signals being picked up Princess?” He might as well know about them before he retreats back to his room or to the training ground.  Allura scans through her own database of information, stuff Lance feels stupid for reading, and she shakes her head.  

“It’s been quiet for a while.” Allura says and Lance is a little surprised.  It feels as if the ship hasn’t experienced an emergency in days.  

 

“Oh,” He says, “Weird.”

 

He sidles toward the exit of the brig.  Shiro looks at him, noticing and Lance gives a terse smile.

 

“Call me if you need anything.” He says, “I’m gonna be on the training ground.”

 

He then exits the brig before anyone can say anything and goes straight to the training ground, dressing in his paladin armor.  

 

The familiar weight of his bayard sends a warm welcome through his fingertips.  He vaguely remembers turning it into another weapon other than his rifle.  He turns on the training session and sets it to level one.  

 

 _Time to test it out-_  he thinks and he closes his eyes, the sudden urge to hit something pulsing through his fingers and when he opens his eyes again the rifle flashes and turns into a large sci-fi looking mace, the end lined and plated with cerulean.  He touches the points with his finger tips, satisfied at it’s sharpness and an opponent falls from the ceiling and in front of him.  

 

 _“Training level one.”_ Calls out a cool feminine voice and the Altean fighter rushes towards him, wielding a staff.  He jerks into action, swinging the new mace with both arms, the weapon clanging with the staff and he aims for the head- his breath suddenly knocking out of his lungs.  He is hit in the stomach with the staff, practically tossed across the room, the world becoming a myriad of colors.  He clings onto his mace, standing up, ready to retch, breathing raggedly.  The fighter rushes toward him again and Lance doesn’t think- _he doesn’t think,_ he hits it on the top of his head before he’s knocked over with the staff.  

 

Lance gets up again, stomach aching, muscles aching and he runs toward the fighter and swings, the mace is embedded in the head of the fighter before it makes a last ditch effort to pulls his hands away from his weapon and hit him- hard, hard enough to send him flying again.  Lance watches as the fighter disappears and the mace turns back into a bayard, clattering to the floor.  

Exhaustion, deeply rooted exhaustion runs through his veins.  He exhales, glad that the fight is over.  

 

“End training session!” He shouts and the room flashes again.  Lance sits in silence for a couple of seconds, proud that he managed to unlock another weapon.  His pride is short lived because the doors to the grounds open and Shiro steps in, face completely unreadable now.  

 

“Lance.” He says, “We need to talk.”

  
  
  


 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this one is really slow and like it is- sleepy. I haven't updated in three-four weeks because I went into this schedule mode that caused me pump out content every week and it was becoming tiring for me to actually write it all, and write outlines and stuff. So I went back to what caused my story to come to fruition, pure emotion and /just doing it./ Like, just writing until I'm satisfied by the end result. So this is partially without an outline, because I do have a list of things I wanna see in the story with a notebook and partially prewritten with excerpts and ideas placed in between.  
> Also, the tags have been changed and stuff so don't freak out  
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE COMMENTS, I REALLY APPRECIATE THEM!!
> 
> Also: Gotdamn I'm sleepy.


	9. Extrenuate

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a while. I can explain: I made an outline and I just got around to writing and rewriting. So... hey

_“Call if you need anything.”_ Shiro presses his lips together.  Lance is leaving again and he wants to reach out and keep him here, keep him alive.  The moment Lance leaves is the moment that Lance dies.  

 

_“I’ll be in the Training room.”_

 

It arrives sharp in his chest, a constricting terror when he sees Lance turn and disappear from the Brig.  He twitches a little, wanting to move, to say- _I’ll join you_ but his legs are heavy and his stomach is heavy.  

 

Pidge looks just as worried as Shiro feels, her face is a little pale and she glances at him, searching for guidance.  

 

“I’m basically done, all I need now to fix a couple of things and we’re so much closer to taking down Andromeda.” She says, her voice slightly unsteady and Shiro takes a deep breath, sensing the unease from her but  he can’t breathe and when he tries to again to take a deep breath he struck with a sharp metallic smell that nearly makes him keel.  He stiffens, voice gone and lungs tightening and Keith’s hand gently touches his arm, squeezing a little and it briefly eases Shiro’s chest.  Allura is speaking but Shiro’s mind is buzzing and the moment she turns off the star diagram he exhales as if he’s been holding his breath, his blood rushing in his ears.  

 

 _Lance is definitely dead-_ and his throat constricts again, _Lance is dead and he’s alone and you failed and it’s all your fault-_ _he doesn’t go to the Training room, he sleeps or he cleans Cryo-Pods with Coran._

 

Why would he? Unless he’s _dead,_ he’s not lying is he?

 

Shiro finds himself practically storming out of the brig and down toward the Training Ground and he can only imagine Lance’s bruised and broken body lying in a pool of his own blood on the floor.  He ends up at the door to the room and he sees a flash of blue and Lance- hitting a gladiator? Lance staggers a little and the Gladiator disappears in a brief flash of light. Shiro once again exhales in relief, _alive and well-_ he’s alive and well.  

 

When he enters the room, Lance is sweating a little and his bayard is a couple of feet away.  Lance looks at him in surprise.  

 

“Lance we need to talk.”  

 

Lance shuffles to his feet, glancing at the bayard.  He stretches and gives a small smiles Shiro hasn’t seen in what feels like days.  

 

“What about?”

 

 _It’s too easy,_ Shiro’s throat eases and Lance seems easy and open and just fine.  

 

“About what happened last night.”  

 

Last night? It seems like ages ago and Lance’s smile vanishes, his expression now unreadable, he’s staring past Shiro and at his bayard which is still lying on the floor.  

 

He walks over to it without a word and picks it up, once in awhile looking at Shiro  with a still unreadable expression.  

 

Shiro is partly looking at the bayard and partly at Lance who seems so dazed that Shiro waves an arm in front of his face.  

 

“Oh.” Lance’s voice is suddenly hoarse, his eyes that once sparked with life, glassy.  

 

“Are you okay?” Shiro starts and Lance shifts a little, he notices how the younger paladin picks at the little indents on his bayard.  

 

“I think so.” Lance says and Shiro knows that voice doesn’t belong to the Blue Paladin.  

 

Shiro bites his lip in frustration- what a dumb question to ask! _Okay? He tried to kill himself last night! What’s so okay about him?_

 

“You know you can talk to me.” Shiro says in a level tone and that frustration burrows into him again, digging at his temple a non-soothing alternative to his pounding heart and sweaty skin.  

 

Lance doesn’t scoff, but the look he gives makes Shiro hold in the urge to sigh.  

 

“I know.” Lance says and he looks up briefly from his ministrations upon his bayard to look into Shiro’s eyes, to show his sincerity and Shiro only feels a bite of irritation at it.  Lance then goes back to scrubbing his fingernails into the grooves of his bayard.  

 

 _If you know,_ Shiro wants to say, _then why don’t you talk to me?_

“Come to the common room with me.” Shiro says finally, “You seem even more worn out that when I last saw you.”

 

The common room is empty when Lance and Shiro arrive and they both stand, staring a the seats.  Shiro sits down and he pats the space next to him,

 

“Sit with me.”

 

Lance walks forward and does so, unnaturally silent the whole time and tension is thick in Shiro’s chest.  He clears his throat and Lance looks at him, guarded and frankly a little frazzled at the noise.  

 

“Wanna hear a joke?”

Shiro wants to laugh at himself at his own awkwardness, but the heaviness in his chest melts away when Lance gives him this little smile and his guarded expression melts away.  

 

“Sure.”

 

“I watched a T.V.  show about Beavers back on Earth.” Shiro looks at him expectantly, and Lance quirks an eyebrow,

 

“And?”

“It was the best dam T.V. show I’ve ever seen.”

 

Lance purses his lips for a second and his face breaks into a grin, he chuckles a little.  

 

“Nice one Shiro.”

 

“Why didn’t the Cantaloupes run off and get married?” Shiro continues and he’s smiling so madly he can’t stop.  

 

“Why didn’t they?”

 

“Because they can’t elope.”

 

Lance sighs, rolling his eyes and that makes Shiro think for a second that he’s back from the darkness he sat in.  

 

“Yet another classic.” He says and Shiro’s insides swell with pride in lighting up the situation that he ends up slapping Lance’s shoulder, “High quality Comedy Shiro.”

 

He notices the dripping sarcasm but it contains no malice and Shiro smiles again.  

 

Hunk enters the common room, a slice of cake in hand and he looks mildly surprised to see Lance and Shiro sitting there.  

 

“Hey! Uh, Lance- I’ve got something for you.”

 

Lance sits up straight, smiling so full that it crinkles around his eyes.  Hunk hands him the slice.  

 

“There’s more where that came from.” Hunk says and Lance is eating some of the cake.  

“Hunk, this is great! It tastes just like the cakes back home!”  

 

Hunk flushes a little and Lance’s smile grows wider than ever.  

 

“I’m really glad you like it.”

 

“You’re the man Hunk, the man!” and Hunk glances at Shiro in an almost apologetic manner but Shiro only smiles.

 

It’s unfathomable to him, as to why Lance tried when so many people here love him.   Shiro wonders about what went wrong and whether anything Lance did, they did- he did brought it to that point.  

 

“Hope everything’s okay Lance.” Hunk says, “There’s cake in the Kitchen if you want some Shiro.”

 

“Thank you Hunk.”

 

Lance is stiff, his mouth still full of cake and Shiro realizes that not everything’s alright.  

 

“I hope everything’s okay too.” Comes the response and Hunk engulfs Lance in a big hug before leaving the common room.  

 

“I’ll be in the Kitchen if you need me.”  

 

Shiro and Lance are sitting in silence again and Lance fidgets a little before saying,

 

“I’m gonna go to my room.  That’s fine, right?”

 

And Shiro’s voice is lost, he swallows a little,

 

“Yeah, that’s fine.”

 

The next morning Shiro finds the training ground occupied by Lance once again with him, _lunging?_ Practically swordfighting?  

 

Shiro notices how he didn’t appear for breakfast and after checking Lance’s room for a panicked second he checked the Training Room.  

 

Courtesy of Hunk for being just as worried when he didn’t show.  

 

It’s a general rule of thumb that one must always eat breakfast before trying any rigorous morning exercise and Lance is already there, already working up a sweat.  

“Lance!” Shiro calls when he opens the door and he sees a weapon not Lance’s own- the mace and Lance swings it at the Gladiator, defeating it.  

 

Lance pauses the exercise, mace still in hand and Shiro’s heart stops for a second.  

 

The only time Lance was using a mace was when he was nearly destroying the Training Room, eyes wild and full of tears trying to destroy him.  

 

“What’s up Shiro?” The mace dissolves the moment concentration- _anger? Sadness?-_ breaks and Shiro’s relieved to see it go.  

 

“Did you eat breakfast?” Shiro asks and Lance is silent for a beat.

 

“Yes.” He replies and Shiro knows it’s a lie, a bad lie because Lance has forfeited food before.  

 

“If you keep training like that, you’ll pass out.” Shiro admonishes frankly and Lance flushes a little before going to a corner of the room to pick up a water pack, “You need to eat.”

 

“I’ll eat later, it’s fine.” Lance says and Shiro sighs.  

 

“I’ll get you food then.” Shiro says before hesitantly turning from him and walking from the Training Room.  

 

Shiro leaves food goo breakfast in the Training Room where Lance continues to fight in.   He flinches when Lance is hit in the chest with a hearty thump by a Gladiators.  

 

It’s those moments in time where one is completely flying blind and autopilot is off and the room for error is astronomically high.  Lance not eating, isolating himself, it’s as if history is repeating itself and Shiro can’t break it.  

 

He checks on Pidge in her Lion hangar and she’s with Hunk, fiddling at a disk or chip of some kind. Pidge turns to him with this smile and she holds up the object, which is definitely a chip.  

 

“Almost done Shiro.”

 

Shiro smiles back,

 

“Do you know how much longer it’ll take?”

 

“One more quintant or two. Fine tuning can be a slow process.”  

 

“I figure.”  

 

And Shiro turns to leave before Pidge stops him,

 

“Did you check up on Lance?”

 

“Yeah, why?”

 

“Is he okay?”

 

Shiro swallows minutely, Lance is training- which _should_ be good but he’s forgetting to eat so far.  

 

“He’s still training.”

 

“Did he eat?” Hunk interjects and his face is clouded with worry.  

 

“I left food in the Training Room for him, I’m not sure if he’ll eat it.”

 

“Please make sure that he does.” Hunk says, “It’ll be bad if he forgets.”

 

“Sure thing.”

 

When Shiro returns to the training ground, Lance is _still_ training and the food he left sits in a corner, uneaten.  

He enters the Room and Lance pauses the simulation.

 

“You’re here to train too?”

 

“I’m here to ask if you’ve eaten.” Shiro says and Lance’s neutral expression crumples into guilt.

 

“Forgot.” He mutters.  

 

“How long have you been training?”

 

“A couple of minutes, I think.  Not that long.”

 

Shiro sighs and presses his fingers onto the bridge of his nose.  

 

“They worry you know.  Hunk and Pidge and especially Keith.” Shiro says, “They worry about you.”

 

“I know.” Lance says and shiro purses his lips.  

 

“Then eat, at least.”  

Lance goes over to the forgotten food good and scoops a little into his mouth.  

 

“There,” He says through a full mouth, “Happy?”

 

“Make sure you swallow.” Shiro says and Lance does so with difficulty.  

 

“Man am I full.” Lance says, “I need to ask, is Pidge done with her analysis- thing yet?”

 

“Practically done, she’s still fine tuning.”

 

“It’s great to have her on the team.  She’s really fast with the engineering stuff, y’know? Her and Hunk.”  

 

And Shiro can agree, Pidge can practically come up with anything in short amount of time.  This must be her biggest project yet with how long it’s taking.  

 

“Tell her that she’s doing an amazing job for me okay?” Lance asks and Shiro holds a thumbs up, aware of the focus shift from his shitty eating habits to Pidges talent.  The moment Shiro steps out of the room, the sounds of fighting start again.  

 

 _This is good for him,_ Shiro thinks to himself, _he’s training more even if it’s unlike him- but he’s training more._ Yet the way Lance casually snubs food niggles at him and he hopes that it will fade away eventually.  

 

The next day, Shiro finds that Lance isn’t at breakfast again and Pidge and Hunk look at Shiro, worried.  

 

“I’m gonna check up on Lance.” Hunk says and with that he brings a plate of food with him.

 

Shiro guesses that he’s in the Training room again.  Not eating is his most hated one.   _Dead-_ even worse.  

 

When Hunk returns, it’s without the plate and Shiro glances at him.  

 

 _Training Room?_ He silently asks, and Hunks look reaffirms his guess.  

 

Allura looks a little confused and she looks at both Hunk and Shiro,

 

“Lance has yet again skipped breakfast.  Where is he?”

 

“Training.” Shiro says.  

 

“Not good without food.” Keith interjects- he was moody and silent this whole time and Shiro’s heart goes out to him.  

 

“I see.” Allura says, “He’s taking his role as Paladin a little more seriously.”

 

“I’m proud that he’s taking it seriously.” Shiro says, “But without food he’s going to pass out.  I’m surprised he hasn’t yet.”

 

“So am I.” Keith says, he pushes his last spoon of food goo into his mouth and gets up,

 

“I’m going to train with him.” He says finally and Shiro watches him leave the dining hall.  

 

“I’ll go too.” Shiro says, “Call when anything goes wrong Princess.”

 

He follows Keith to the Training Room and Keith is standing inside, staring at Lance fight.  Shiro walks in and stands next to him. Lance is getting his ass handed to him, but he’s also trying to put up a good fight.  His arms are covered in little bruises and he swings the mace and adjusts his stance.  

 

While does get hit a few times by the staff, Lance swings a couple of short brutal hits at the Gladiator.  Once again he gets hit with the staff and Lance takes a knee, he gets up and allows the Gladiator to charge him, then he pummels it with the mace  and the Gladiator disappears in a flourish of light.  

 

Lance is swaying- he’s sweating a lot and he looks a little pale and exhausted. _How long was he training?_

 

Keith steps forward and Lance barely registers, tightening his hand around the mace.  

 

“Keith-” Shiro starts, “Careful.”

 

“How did you manage to change your weapon?” Keith  asks, ignoring Shiro and he is awed despite Lance’s bruises.  

Lance looks at him, eyes glassy and Shiro’s fingers start to buzz, panic sparking in his head.  

 

“I don’t know.” Comes the faint response, “I just can.”

 

“You take so much damage.” Keith says, “One more hit and you could’ve been down.”

 

“Oh.” Lance says dully and Shiro realizes that no matter what- the cycle is starting again, “I’ll get better at managing that eventually.  I think.”  

 

“Lance, how long have you been training?” Shiro says sharply, worry pooling in his stomach and Lance flinches a little, the bayard changes back into a rifle.  

 

Keith looks surprised at Shiro’s suddenness and he glances at Lance who’s still swaying.  

 

“Um.” Lance starts and his eyes screw up, “I don’t know.”

 

“Did you eat?” Shiro asks.  

 

“Um.” Lance says again thinking hard, “I don’t- I think?”

 

Shiro strides up to him, and he sees purple bags under Lance’s eyes, how he blinks slowly.  

 

“When was the last time you ate?”

 

“Yesterday, I think.”

 

Keith gives a one over at Lance,

 

“At what time did you go to sleep?”  Keith asks and Lance stays deliberately silent this time and dread fills Shiro’s stomach.  

 

“Did you train all night? Please tell me the truth.” Shiro nearly begs and Lance looks at him, struggling to focus.  

 

“Uh, maybe?”

 

Keith walks over to the panel that activates training and he shuts it down.  

 

“You’re done.” He says suddenly, and Lance looks so surprised that he’s pulled out of his sluggishness.  

 

“Wait-! No, I- I still wanna train.” Lance says and Shiro shakes his head.  

 

“You’ve trained enough.  You didn’t even eat.” Keith says and he grabs Lance’s hand and pulls him out of the training Room, Shiro following after.  

 

“I’m not hungry!” Lance protests.  

 

“You’re on the verge of passing out during training.” Shiro says frankly, “Eat first, then sleep.”  

 

“I can’t sleep- if I sleep, I get even more tired.” Lance says.  

 

“You’re gonna shut down at some point.” Keith says seriously and he’s dragging Lance to the Kitchens, Lance is struggling but it’s weak and it barely registers with Keith.  

 

When they get to the Kitchens, Hunk isn’t there but Keith readies a plate anyway and serves food goo to Lance.  

 

Lance sits at the counter stubbornly, staring at the goo with frustration in his eyes.  

 

“We’re not leaving until you eat.” Shiro says and Lance sighs, defeated.  

 

Lance is a slow eater it seems, because he’s swallowing every spoonful with difficulty, shuddering at the taste.

 

“Can I just sleep?” Lance asks  and Keith shoots Shiro a look that speaks, _help me here._

 

Shiro sighs,

 

“Eat and sleep, not _or,_ so go on, you’re doing a great job.”  

 

“You don’t have to be so sarcastic Shiro.” Lance whines, “I get that I _need_ to but I’m seriously not hungry.”  

 

Shiro blinks- he wasn’t being sarcastic, but he stays silent as Lance continues to eat.  Eventually he pushes away his plate, it half empty.  

 

“I’m full.” He says and Keith rolls his eyes in frustration, taking the plate away.  

 

 _“Shiro, Keith and Lance- report to the Brig at once!”_ Allura’s voice suddenly cuts through the tension of the Kitchen and Lance stands, rushing out of the Kitchen and out of sight.  

 

Shiro makes it to the brig last and Pidge and Hunk are standing there, their Paladin’s armor on.

 

“What’s happening?” Shiro asks and he realizes that he’s caught without it on for the first time.  Allura smiles a little at him and Pidge holds up the chip.  

 

“It’s done.”  

 

“That’s great, Pidge.” Keith says, “But how are we gonna find Andromeda?  We haven’t been tracked by the Galra or Andromeda in a while.”  

 

Pidge gives a smile to the Red Paladin.  

 

“We let her come to us.”  

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AWW YEAH, FIRST THANK ALL OF YA'LL FOR THE KUDOS AND THE LOVE N I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AAA. I'M GOING TO COLLEGE IN THREE, FOUR DAYS. 
> 
> Also, haha happy late father's day. 
> 
> This is a mostly light chapter through Shiro's pov and boom- Keith there you are! 
> 
> Now we're getting to some juicy territory. oh SNAP. 
> 
> hey pidge long time no see. 
> 
> My biggest fear is that the plot to forward the story is wayy too meandering and stuff but I'm happy that I finally made it to this point. 
> 
> Another big fear is losing the point entirely or losing focus because I can do that and it'll be real bad. That's kinda why I have a list of things I want to see in the story and an outline for the chapters. 
> 
> I'm extremely lazy, so publishing this was one part painful one part exciting because after I met the written part I was like :/ when I had to meet it halfway. 
> 
> Also hell yeah emotional focus on Shiro and Lance's relationship and how Shiro sees Lance. C:<


	10. Promise Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this instead of completing my college essay. Haha im in my spring semester now.

Pidge holds up the chip and her glasses shine in the soft blue light from her scren.  The others crowd around her seat as she continues to type.  Lance’s stomach drops, his time of peace is over.  He thinks of the Blue Lion’s cockpit and her rumbling and he thinks of the mindscape.  Lance inhales deeply and the slow rise of panic stops.  Shiro glances at him and lance pretends not to notice.  

 

“How?” He asks and Pidge looks up at him, pausing from her typing.  

 

“I’m getting a lure ready.”

 

Lance stares stares at the lines of code on the holographic screen.  Most of it isn’t english.  

 

 _“When should we get ready?”_ Allura asks and Lance is staring at Pidge’s screen, in a trance.  Allura’s voice barely registers in her ears.  Suddenly clasps onto his shoulder , shaking gently.  

 

Lance whirls and sees Shiro who is giving him a concerned gaze.  

 

“Are you okay?” Lance hears he nods, licking his lips.  

 

 _“Now.”_ Pidge says and Allura nods before walking to her spot on the bridge.  

 

“Are you sure?” Shiro asks him and Lance realizes that Allura and Pidge’s conversation fades away as he listens to Shiro.  

 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Lance says and he feels Pidge rush past him to get into her armor and to her lion.  Shiro looks doubtful when he follows Pidge out of the door.  Lance realizes that he left his helmet in the training room and jogs over to find it.  

 

They're gonna start battling again- Lance’s skin thrums and he places his helmet on, throwing onto the zipline.  A million and one questions rush through his head and he’s distracted until the zipline jolts and he clumsily falls into the Blue Lion’s speeder.  

 

He grabs Blue’s controls, aware of her warmth.  He hears her humming.  

 

_Welcome back my paladin._

 

Lance smiles tightly as he flies out into space with the others.  

 

“Thanks for not hating me Blue.”  Lance says and he turns on the comms for the castle and the other paladins.  

 

He spots the Green Lion poised in front of a certain spot in space, the other LIons floating nearby.  

“Almost there and… done!”

 

“You sent it out?” Shiro asks over the comms and Pidge hums and affirmative.    

 

“Now what?” Keith asks.  

 

“We wait.  Andromeda should be here in about three minutes.”

 

Apparently three minutes go rather fast in space because Andromeda’s hulking form appears in front of the Green Lion along with a small fleet of Galra fighters.  

 

“Alright, now this is where it gets interesting.”  Lance says and he rears up to dodge the hail of laser fire.  

 

Andromeda releases a short beam of light and Lance curses and swerves to avoid it.  The next beam fires and it abruptly hits the ship that tried to shoot him.  Debris floats from the spot and a tractor beam extends out to suck in the broken contents of the Galra ship.  He spots Pidge getting close to Andromeda-

 

 _“I’ve got the front! Keep distracting it!”_ Lance sees Keith’s red beam glancing off of Andromeda’s hull and Lance jerks from the distraction, Shiro is yelling in the comms.  

 

 _“Lance a Galra fighter is right on your tail!”_ Lance banks sharply, releasing his own beam of ice on the fighter on the fighter even as the dashboard beeps with a little damage to the rear end.  

 

“You’ll be fine Blue!” Lance says and jets forward to grab more fighters and toss them around.  

 

 _“Pidge, you got the back?”_ Shiro says.  

 

_“Yes! Need the sides, keep going!”_

 

 _“Um Pidge, when are you gonna tell us the weaknesses?”_ Hunk’s voice is tinged with panic and waves in and out of Lance’s ears as he dodges and shoots fighters.  

 

 _“Can’t! I can’t!”_ Lance can see Pidge dipping near Andromeda’s side.  

 

 _“What do you mean you can’t?”_ Keith barks and Lance feels his chest tighten.  He swallows, silent.  

 

 _“It doesn’t scan like that!”_ Pidge exclaims, _“We have to look for them ourselves!”_

 

 _“What?”_ Keith yells and Lance’s head and eyes ache. 

 

_“I thought it could!”_

_“I thought so too-”_

_“Guys- guys!”_ Shiro’s voice breaks into their bickering and Lance destroys another fighter.  

_“Pidge can you look at what you scanned and find weaknesses?”_

_“I’m sure I can but I- I don’t have time-”_ Andromeda abruptly whirls around.  Lance can see it spotted Pidge.  There are so many fighters- and they need Voltron.  Andromeda is raising its arm and Lance races at Pidge, hoping to God or someone that he’s fast enough.  

 

He is thrown from his seat at the first impact and he hears Pidge’s sharp scream of surprise.  

 

“Lance! What are you-”

 

The next slam is harder and he’s shaken off from his controls, and he’s whizzing across the cockpit.  He vaguely hears a metal crunch before he blacks out.  

 

When he comes to, his friends are screaming.  

 

His head and body aches and he’s floating in the cockpit of the Blue Lion.  

 

Lance grunts, trying to move- pain flares along his back and he makes another long grunting noise.  

 

 _What- what happened-_ Pain spikes deep within his chest and it starts to spread.  Lance wobbles in the air, even as his stomach whirls and he reaches for the controls, trying to sit back down.  The dashboard is still lit.  Blue still thrums around him, her presence calm and cool.  When he rights himself, the jostle makes his bones hurt and his head spin.  

 

 _“Lance!”_ Shiro’s voice cuts into his brain, loud and concerned and Lance winces as his headache begins to grow.  

 

“I’m here.  I’m okay, I think.”  Lance’s back screams in protest with every stretch he gives it.  His visor has a hole.  

 

 _“What were you thinking!?”_ Keith’s voice is hoarse and panicked ad the whirling in Lance’s stomach only grows.  

 

“Pidge- Pidge was in it’s way-”  Lance says shakily, “I don’t know-”

 

Oh god, his head hurts so much and through the blurriness he sees andromeda turning as the other paladins distract it.  

 

 _“Lance, talk to me- what’s wrong?”_ Shiro’s voice sounds urgent and his voice crackles in the comms.  

“What-” He mutters, “Wait! How long was I out?”

 

 _“Two minutes.”_ Hunk says faintly and Lance’s headache builds.   _Two minutes_ and they’ve still been fighting.  

 

“Sorry.” Lance’s throat tightens as he flies back into the chaos.  

 

 _“I’ve got a weakness on Andromeda! If we concentrate all of our firepower on it I think we’ll be able to weaken it!”_ Pidge shouts.

 

_“Where?”_

 

_“Try the left arm joint!”_

 

Lance shakes his head to distract himself from the increasing pain and shoots another laser beam at Andromeda’s arm joint.  He sees more beams of the other’s respective Lion colors- all chipping off the plated armor that protected the joint.  

 

The next moment the joint explodes and Lance banks to the left to dodge the sharpnel, gasping and choking when pain flares again on arm socket.  He inhales shakily, realizing that tears are rolling down his cheeks, nose stuffed with snot.  

 

_“What else?”_

_“Um- small of the back! There’s an open section there  and it controls the ion cannon!”_

The back… the back, he flies over to shoot at it, wishing for the battle to end so he can rest.  

 

_“Lance watch out!”_

 

Lance jerks his lion forward.  Andromeda’s other arm is working, apparently, it barely catches the Blue Lion on its tail.  

 

The bone of his arm socket digs painfully into his back and he chokes back another whimper as he flies to avoid Andromeda again.  

 

“Thanks Shiro.” He manages to say through grit teeth.  His stomach still whirls and his ribs are on fire.  

 

 _“Pidge- are we almost done?  I don’t think we’ve gotten close to beating it.”_ Hunks says in a worried voice.  While it is easier to avoid Andromeda now and there is only a couple of Galra fighters left, the battle is still starting to wear them down.  

 

_“There should be one more section that would disable it permanently-”_

 

_“That’s great, where is it?”_

 

_“It’s the head, but we’ve got a problem.  It’s too heavily fortified to destroy.  There are three cubes which seem to be filled with AI data.  We need to get close to the head and slip under the armor.  Otherwise we’ll have to retreat.”_

 

Lance is staring at the now slowing down Andromeda and he feels something drip into his eye. His head continues to painfully throb.  

 

 _“Alright Pidge- I’ll-”_ Shiro starts but Lance cuts him off.  

 

“I’ll go.” He says breathlessly.  

 

 _“I’m not finished.”_ Pidge says, _“Getting close means getting out of your lion to get those data cubes.  According to this, they’re about the size of your hand.”_

 

“Okay” Lance says, “I’ll go.”

 

_“Andromeda can still kill you if you get too close alone, even with your lion-”_

 

“That’s fine.” Lance says brusquely.  The comms explode with indignance and his head hurts too much to listen.  

 

“Just-!” Lance winces when he raises his voice, a pressure builds along his eyes, “Just tell me what to do.”

 

 _“No Lance-”_ Shiro’s voice sounds desperate, scared.  

 

“Shiro, let me do this.”  Lance starts to go toward Andromeda, but the large form of the Black Lion blocks him.  

 

_“No.”_

 

Lance purses his lips in frustration and weaves from in front of the Black Lion.  

 

“Pidge, tell me what to do.”

 

_“NO!”_

 

This is the second time he gets slammed into, Lance swears and his vision goes black.  

 

 _“Pidge, help Keith get the data cubes.  Hunk, help me tow Lance back onto the ship.”_  

 

 _What?_ His vision starts to come back , but his movements are weak and his head pulses so much, his vision warps.  

 

He’s too weak to stop Hunk and Shiro from towing him back.  Lance wants to cry with anger and pain, but the moment the door to the cockpit slides open all of it drains out of him and he becomes exhausted.  

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

A hand gently grips his shoulder.  He hisses and curses in pain.  

 

“Come on.” Hunk murmurs, “It’s okay.”

 

Lance wobbles off of the lion and Hunk ends up pulling off his helmet.  

 

“Broken visor,” Hunk hums thoughtfully.  

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Your head is bleeding.”

 

Oh.  So that’s why he has a headache.  

 

“Took a hard hit.” Lance says with a chuckle.  He doesn’t comment on why they stopped him.  

 

Hunk pulls visor glass from his hairline.  Lance winces and blood rolls down his forehead, fresh and warm.  

 

Lance undresses himself and Hunk hands him a medsuit.  

 

“I’m sorry.” Lance repeats and Hunk gives him a sad expression.  Guit spears through his stomach as he dresses and he swallows.  His face is wet with tears again.  

 

He steps into the med suit and once again, sleep takes over.  

 

When Lance wakes up again, there’s no pain in his ribs and his headache is gone.  He steps out of the pod.  

 

“Who slammed into me?” Lance asks with a yawn.  He wants to be angry, but right now he’s tired.  

 

The team looks worried at most and sullen at least.  Keith and Hunk glance at Shiro.  

 

Shiro’s arms are folded and his expression is stern, frustrated.  

 

“I did.  Wasn’t going to let you pull this stunt.”  

 

Lance, too tired to feel chastened, gives him a bored expression.  

 

“And why not?”

 

Shiro narrows his eyes at the response.  He takes a deep breath.  

 

“You heard what Pidge said.  Too close and you die.”  

 

Lance flicks his eyes over to Keith.  

 

“Did Keith die?”

 

“No, but you would have.”

 

“Why would you think that?”

 

“Because you’re reckless.” Shiro’s tone of voice is cold and hard.  Lance takes a deep breath, rubbing his forehead as another headache builds.  

 

“I’m reckless.” Lance says shortly, an argument on his tongue, “How was that reckless when I barely contribute to the team?”

 

They all shift nervously and Shiro doesn’t answer.  Lance’s headache only grows and his exhaustion turns to ire.  

 

“She didn’t mean that.” Hunk says.  

 

“Sure Hunk.  Too bad she told the truth.”  

 

“Enough,” Shiro says, “You guys go get some rest.”

 

Lance looks over at Keith, Pidge and Hunk, their faces say they leave.  Lance stretches and is about to follow when Shiro tells him to stay.  

 

“I’m sorry.” Lance says.   _He’s sorry a lot huh._

 

Shiro sighs.  He looks exhausted.  

 

“What Allura said was uncalled for.”  

“But do I really contribute to the team?”

 

“Of course you do.” Shiro says immediately, “You’re an extremely skilled marksman.”  

 

Lance wants to say _thank you,_ to say _I’m sorry for scaring you_ and leave, but more words keep unfolding from his lips.  

 

“Apparently not skilled enough to be a contributor.”

 

“My point is, that going in there head first was dangerous.  Please listen next time.”

 

“How do you know that I would died?”  Lance wants to stop what he saying to take it all back.  They’ve seen him try.  

 

Shiro’s pursed his lips together.  

 

“You really scared us that night.”

 

Lance’s stomach goes cold.  He swallows with anxiety.  

 

“Let me tell you Lance- I know.  When you fail once, You’ll want to try again.”

 

“You don’t know me that well then Shiro.” Lance says coolly, “I’m not gonna do it again.”

 

“Promise then.”

 

“I promise you.” Lance says and then he smiles a little, “Pinky promise.”

 

The two intwine pinkies for a moment and Lance sweeps past him, his stomach whirling with guilt.   

 

 

  
  
  


  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uhhh, this chapter?? Has an end to an arc I was planning for a while. Thanks for everything. Ily!! <3


End file.
